TO-MORROW 


OTHER  WORKS 
BY  PERCY  MACKAYE 

The  Canterbury  Pilgrims.    A  Comedy 

Jeanne  A' Arc.    A   Tragedy 

Sappho  and  Phaon.    A   Tragedy 

Fenris,  the  Wolf.    A   Tragedy 

A  Garland  to  Sylvia.    A  Dramatic  Reverie 

The  Scarecrow.   A  Tragedy  of  the  Ludicrous 

Yankee  Fantasies.    Five  One-Act  Plays. 

Mater.    An  American  Study  in  Comedy. 

Anti-Matrimony.    A  Satirical  Comedy 

Poems 

Lincoln:    A  Centenary  Ode 

The  Playhouse  and  the  Play.    Essays 


TO-MORROW 

A  Play  in   Three  Acts 


BY 

PERCY    MACKAYE 


NEW  YORK 

FREDERICK  A.  STOKES.  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1912,  by 
PERCY  MACKAYE 

This  play  has  been  copyrighted  and  published  simul 
taneously  in  the  United  States  and  Great  Britain. 

All  rights  reserved,  including  that  of  translation  into 
foreign  languages,  including  the  Scandinavian. 

All  acting  rights,  both  professional  and  amateur,  are 
reserved,  in  the  United  States,  Great  Britain  and  all 
countries  of  the  Copyright  Union,  by  Percy  MacKaye. 
Performances  forbidden  and  right  of  representation  re 
served.  Piracy  or  infringement  will  be  prosecuted  in 
accordance  with  penalties  provided  by  the  United  States 
Statutes:  Sec.  4966,  U.  S.  Revised  Statutes,  Title  60, 
Chap.  3. 

Application  for  the  right  of  performing  this  play 
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Persons  desiring  'to1  read  this  •  play  professionally  in 
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January,  1912 


PREFACE 

IN  our  age,  which  is  opening  new  vistas  of  leader 
ship  for  women,  the  concept  and  opportunity  of 
woman  as  the  creative  arbiter,  through  selection,  of 
our  race  and  its  future,  must  constitute  a  living 
theme  for  national  thought  and  action. 

At  a  time,  also,  when  the  racial  meanings  of  child 
hood  are  being  deeply  considered,  the  concept  and 
opportunity  of  children  as  the  creative  instruments 
of  a  happier  to-morrow,  must  become  a  practical 
issue  in  education. 

Of  all  demonstrable  visions,  the  truths  of  biology 
give  perhaps  the  securest  pledge  of  beauty  and  hap 
piness  for  the  race  —  a  pledge  more  fair  and  true 
than  the  earlier  prophecies  of  a  poetry  divorced  from 
science. 

For  the  social,  political,  religious  aspects  of  our 
life  are  radically  conditioned  by  the  biological. 

Since  man  himself  is  the  master-sower  of  our 
planet,  the  nature  of  the  human  seed  itself  practically 
determines  the  sowing  and  the  harvest  of  mankind. 
All  contemporary  problems,  for  instance  —  such  as 
those  of  labor  and  capital,  conservation,  temperance, 


241201 


vi  PREFACE 

white  slavery  —  exist  primarily  in  the  nature  of  hu 
man  beings,  conditioned  by  the  laws  of  heredity. 
Heredity  thus  becomes  the  prime  factor  of  a  con 
structive  future  for  the  race. 

While  heredity  remained  a  mysterious  force  un- 
analyzed,  it  naturally  took  on  those  aspects  of  an 
immutable  fate  so  vividly  delineated  in  the  ancient 
Greek  tragedies,  and  still  hauntingly  shadowed  forth 
in  the  plays  of  Ibsen. 

Fundamentally  reduced,  however,  to  law,  and 
definitely  related  to  mathematics,  by  the  rediscovery 
of  the  law  of  Mendel  within  the  last  decade,  the 
truths  of  heredity  appear  radically  to  modify  the 
human  meanings  of  fate,  and  permanently  to  condi 
tion  predestination  by  the  growth  of  reason. 

Mendel's  discovery  is,  to  be  sure,  only  a  beginning 
in  his  great  field,  but  it  is  apparently  a  beginning  as 
revolutionary  as  the  discoveries  of  Copernicus  and 
Newton  in  theirs,  and  gives  promise  of  being  eventu 
ally  as  influential  upon  human  society.  Genera 
tions,  perhaps  centuries,  may  have  to  elapse  before 
man  shall  be  able  to  apply  the  laws  of  heredity  as 
definitely  to  his  own  destiny  as  to  that  of  plants  and 
animals ;  but  the  demonstration  that  he  may  with  rea 
son  make  it  his  aim  to  do  so,  dates  from  our  own 
day. 

Essentially  related  to  the  new  science  of  eugenics, 
Mendelism  has  as  yet  hardly  begun  to  influence  art 


PREFACE  vii 

or  popular  feeling.  It  is,  however,  the  chief  basis 
of  positive,  constructive  eugenics,  as  medical  research 
is  the  chief  basis  of  negative  eugenics. 

Positive  eugenics  is  concerned  with  the  improve 
ment  of  the  human  breed,  through  selection;  nega- 
jtiye  eugenics  —  with  its  safeguarding  from  racial 
poisons,  through  the  spread  of  medical  knowledge. 

Both  aspects  are,  of  course,  incalculably  impor 
tant. 

Emphasizing  the  negative  aspect,  the  dramatic 
work  of  Brieux  has  doubtless  performed  the  fore 
most  pioneering  of  modern  art.  The  negative  em 
phasis,  however,  has  perhaps  necessarily  veiled  the 
constructive  vision  of  beauty  and  joy  inherent  in  the 
positive  aspect. 

Our  world  is  hideously  unhappy,  and  the  insuf 
ferable  sense  of  that  is  the  consecration  of  modern 
leaders  in  art.  Reality  is  splendidly  their  incentive. 
But  reality,  thank  God,  is  not  merely  actually  hide 
ous  and  sad;  it  is  also  potentially  beautiful  and  joy 
ous.  That  happy  potentiality  is  no  romantic  dream ; 
it  is  based  in  reason  and  mathematical  law.  To  sug 
gest  it  in  art,  in  order  to  actualize  it  in  life,  is  also 
the  important  office  and  privilege  of  artists  dedicated 
to  reality. 

Joy  is  not  essentially  less  dramatic  than  sorrow, 
though  undoubtedly  it  is  more  difficult  to  dramatize, 
because  joy  is  experienced  far  less  than  pain  by 


viii  PREFACE 

those  vast  numbers,  whom  the  drama  must  appeal  to. 
Therefore  undoubtedly  a  more  compelling  dramatic 
interest  lies  in  those  tragic  conflicts  inherent  in  nega 
tive  eugenics  than  in  those  more  serene,  construc 
tive  aspects,  which  make  the  vision  of  to-morrow 
beautiful. 

To  suggest  the  latter  in  portraying  a  phase  of  the 
former,  has  been  an  incentive  in  writing  this  play. 

The  theme,  of  course,  is  big  with  a  thousand  plays, 
differing  in  treatment.  In  this  one,  the  overtones  of 
the  theme  have  been  for  me  the  alluring  motives. 

No  subject  of  tremendous  social  importance  has 
ever  won  the  public  ear  without  controversy.  Eu 
genics  is  no  exception.  New  as  its  name  is,  already 
it  has  numerous  connotations,  social,  medical,  po 
litical.  Already  it  has  its  incipient  parties. 

In  this  preface  I  refer  to  it  in  no  controversial 
sense.  In  the  play  it  is  not  I,  but  the  dramatis  per 
sona,  who  refer  to  it.  Its  own  essential  vitality 
must  tend  to  free  it  from  the  arch  enemy  of  human 
growth  —  dogmatism. 

The  thoroughbreeding  of  humanity  is  too  vast  a 
theme  for  the  dictatorship  of  prejudice.  In  a  new 
and  radical  sense,  its  study  is  certain  to  illumine  the 
age-worn  adage: 

"  The  proper  study  of  mankind  —  is  man." 

P.  M-K. 

CORNISH,  NEW  HAMPSHIRE, 
October,  1911. 


CHARACTERS 

PETER  DALE,  Plant-Breeder. 

MANA,*  His  Daughter. 

MARK  FREEMAN,  His  Assistant. 

MRS.  HENSHAWE. 

JULIAN,  Her  Son:  of  the  State  Senate. 

ROSALIE,  a  Child. 

REV.  IGNATIUS  SPOFFORD. 

PROF.  RAEBURN,  Biologist:  of  the  State  University. 

WESTGATE,  Lumberman. 

MISS  WINCH,  Reporter. 

A  CHAUFFEUR. 

A  TRAINED  NURSE. 

Mexican  and  Japanese  Laborers. 

SCENES 

ACT  I. — Peter  Dale's  garden,  in  northern  Califor 
nia;  afternoon. 

ACT  II. — Among  the  cypresses,  on  the  Pacific  coast; 
evening  and  night. 

ACT  III. —  The  garden  again;  late  afternoon  of  the 
next  day. 

*Pronouned:  Mah-na, 


IX 


ACT  FIRST 


ACT  FIRST 


The  garden  of  PETER  DALE,  in  northern  California. 
On  the  right  is  visible  the  end  of  a  greenhouse, 
beside  which  vines  are  growing.  Through  the 
open  door  are  seen  tables,  reaching  beyond 
sight;  on  these  are  low  boxes  filed  with  seedling 
plants.  Around  the  corner  of  the  greenhouse, 
up  scene,  a  path  leads  to  a  gate,  beyond  view, 
and  a  roadway,  also  unseen  but  indicated  by  its 
border  of  tall  eucalyptus  trees,  in  the  right  back 
ground. 

The  groundplan  of  the  scene  is  filled  with  beds  of 
bright  flowers  —  poppies,  amaryllis,  and  other 
varied  species  —  through  which  a  broad  central 
path  leads  back  to  another  which  crosses  it  in 
the  middle  ground;  Ms  is  bordered  behind  by  tall 
cactus  plants  in  bloom,  and  here  the  central  path 
ends.  Beyond  the  cactus  bed,  an  orchard  of 
young  fruit  trees  stretches  green  toward  dull- 
golden  mountains  and  bright  azure  sky.  The 
immediate  foreground  is  a  wide  path  which  di 
vides,  on  the  left,  around  the  circle  of  a  pool, 
with  lilies.  Beside  the  broad,  cement  margin  of 
this  pool,  a  curved  bench  stands  beneath  ilex 
trees.  Behind  this  bench  the  path  leads  off,  left. 


4  TO-MORROW 

It  is  early  afternoon.  Shimmering  sunlight  intensi 
fies  the  colors  of  the  -flowers.  Midway  the  cen 
tral  path,  the  still  figure  of  PETER  DALE  stands 
contemplating.  He  is  dressed  in  a  gray  swal 
low-tail  suit  of  antedated  style.  Under  a  wide 
palm-leaf,  Chinese  hat,  pointed  at  the  crown,  his 
short,  white  hair  accentuates  the  ruddy  sunburn 
of  his  shaven  face  and  fine-cut  features.  With 
both  hands  folded  over  a  large  blank-book,  he 
gazes,  in  quizzical  quiet,  at  a  flower  beside  him. 
From  nearby,  on  the  right,  the  thin,  sweet  voice 
of  a  child  is  heard  lilting  to  an  improvised  mel- 


THE  CHILD'S  VOICE 
Starfish,  starfish, 
Answer  me  the  wish  I  wish! 

PETER  turns  toward  the  sound,  with  a  pensive  smile, 
over  which  comes  a  shade  of  sadness;  then,  turn 
ing  again  to  the  flower,  he  takes  from  his  pocket 
a  piece  of  white  string,  squats  on  one  heel  in 
the  path,  and  ties  the  string  to  the  plant's  stalk, 
jott'mg  a  note  in  his  book  with  a  pencil. 

THE  CHILD'S  VOICE 
With  my  fingers  in  the  dark 
I  can  feel  your  thorny  spark: 
By  its  light,  how  far  —  how  far 
Is  a  starfish  from  a  star? 


TO-MORROW  5 

Around  the  corner  of  tlie  greenhouse,  the  tall,  spare 
form  of  MARK  FREEMAN  comes  slowly  striding. 
He  is  a  young  man,  about  twenty-five,  powerful 
in  build,  sinewy  like  a  mountaineer.  His  strong 
face  is  sun-tanned;  his  brown  arms  are  bare  be 
low  the  rolled  sleeves  of  a  red  shirt  thrust  into 
khaJci  trousers.  On  his  shoulders  —  with  one 
hand  clutching  a  starfish,  the  other  MARK'S  col 
lar  —^  a  little  girl  rides  plg-a-back,  her  bright 
curls  fluttering  close  to  his  tumbled,  dark  hair. 
Arriving  in  the  foreground,  MARK  swings  the 
child  down  upon  her  feet  by  the  greenhouse 
door,  against  which  he  places  her  empty  hand. 
Feeling  the  door-frame  and  the  vines  with  a 
quick  touch,  she  stands  a  moment,  groping, 
while  MARK  gazes  down  at  her.  Then  confi 
dently  she  walks,  with  outstretched  hands  — 
MARK  following  her  —  to  the  edge  of  the  pool, 
where  she  sits  and  plays  with  the  starfish.  By 
her  actions  it  is  evident  that  she  cannot  see. 
PETER  rises,  and  the  two  men  look  at  the  child 
with  tenderness. 

PETER 
Keeps  happy. 

MARK 
Always  just  so. 


6  TO-MORROW 

ROSALIE 

[Without  looking  up.~\ 
Hello,  Father  Peter! 

PETER 

Hello,  Goldylocks! 

[PETER  leads  MARK  toward  the  flower,  and  points  to 
the  white  string.  MARK  ejaculates  with  pleas 
ure.'] 

MARK 
What?  — No! 

PETER 

There's  the  fellow  we've  been  waiting  for. 

MARK 

Blue!  —  the  blue  poppy! 

[At  the  pool,  ROSALIE  dips  the  starfish  in  and  out  of 
the  water,  lilting  to  her  rhythmic  motion.] 

ROSALIE 

Sea-star,  sea-star, 
Say  who  wished  us  what  we  are ! 

PETER 

[Examining  the  poppy  with  MARK.] 
Just  a  shade  too  purple:  a  shade  yet. 

ROSALIE 
[Haltingly.] 

By  your  sharp  and  prickly  light  — 
Through  the  numb  and  awful  night 


TO-MORROW  i 

From  Amoeba  —  to  Arcturus  — 
Who  shall  lead  and  reassure  us? 

[Calling.'] 
Mark!     What's  Amoeba? 

MARK 

Now  that's  telling,  Rosalie.     Ask  the  master. 

ROSALIE 

Father  Peter,  you  tell!  I  know  Arcturus: 
That's  the  big  Shasta  daisy  that  grows  in  the  gar 
den  up  there  [Pointing  overhead]  when  I'm  asleep. 
And  there's  lots  and  lots  of  littler  ones.  Mana  says 
so. 

From  Amoeba  to  Arcturus  — 

PETER 

Did  Mana  teach  you  that? 
ROSALIE 

Yes,  but  she  didn't  say  about  Amoeba.  What's 
Amoeba? 

PETER 

Amoeba  was  the  first  water-baby.  He  was  the 
daddy  of  Jack  and  Jill.  But  that's  Once-upon-a- 
time ! 

[He  sits  on  the  bench.     ROSALIE  jumps  to  her  feet 
and  reaches  toward  him.~\ 

ROSALIE 
Oh,  it's  a  story ! 


8  TO-MORROW 

PETER 

'Most  as  old  as  Mother  Morey. 

[Taking  her  outstretched  hands,  PETER  nestles  her 
to  him.] 

ROSALIE 


TeU  me  I 

PETER 

Well,  it  was  this  way.  Mother  Morey  —  you  know 
Mother  Morey? 

[ROSALIE  nods.] 

Well,  her  given  maiden  name  was  Nature.  Now, 
quite  some  time  before  the  Mayflower  landed,  she 
got  married  to  Old  Morey. 

ROSALIE 
What  was  his  maiden  name? 

PETER 

Well,  his  front  name  was  Phoebus.  He  was  a 
bright,  warm-hearted  fellow  —  Old  Phoebus  Morey. 
When  he  married  Mother  Nature,  they  picked  out  a 
little,  round,  span-new  bungalow,  called  the  world, 
and  started  in  housekeeping.  Morey  boiled  the  ket 
tle,  and  Mother  sprinkled  the  salt.  So  they  got  along 
nicely.  But  by  and  by,  Mother  she  began  to  fuss. 

"  Now,  now,  Mother,"  says  Old  Morey,  "  what's 
the  matter?" 


TO-MORROW  9 

"  There's  matter  enough,  Phoebus,"  says  she,  "  but 
there's  no  little  home  folks  here  to  cook  it  for." 

"  What's  the  good  o'  fussing  ?  "  says  he. 

"  What's  the  good  o'  cooking  for  just  ourselves," 
says  she. 

So  Mother  Nature  she  fussed  and  fussed,  till  one 
warm  morning,  when  she  was  stirring  the  salt  water, 
she  peeked  into  the  kettle,  and  there  —  sitting  right 
in  the  bubbles  —  guess  what  she  found ! 

ROSALIE 
What? 

PETER 

A  wee  mite  of  a  rolypoly  j  elly-belly  water-baby ! 

ROSALIE 
Oh,  was  it  Amoeba? 

PETER 

Amoeba  it  was,  sure  enough. 

"  Do  look,  Phoebus  dear !  "  says  she.  "  Isn't  this 
a  promising  boy  ?  " 

"He'll  do  for  a  start-off,  Mother.  Guess  we'll 
make  a  man  of  him  yet." 

"  I  do  believe,"  says  Mother,  "  I  do  believe  he's 
growing  already ! " 

And  just  then  —  while  they  were  talking  —  Amoeba 
began  to  puff  himself.  He  puffed  and  he  puffed,  till 
—  piff! 


10  TO-MORROW 

ROSALIE 

What  happened? 

PETER 

Amoeba  was  gone ! 

ROSALIE 
Where? 

PETER 

Split  clean  in  half:  There  was  two  of  him !  One 
was  Jack  and  t'other  was  Jill;  and  right  then  and 
there  they  crawled  out  of  the  sticky  salt  water,  and 
began  to  climb  up  that  hill. 

[PETER  rises  and  takes  ROSALIE  by  the  hand.} 

ROSALIE 
The  one  Jack  fell  down? 

PETER 

That  same  old  stumble-up  and  tumble-down  hill ! 
[He  begins  to  lead  her  up  the  central  path.'] 

And  do  you  know,  Goldylocks :  from  that  day,  all 
the  Jacks  and  Jills  in  the  world  have  been  hunting  for 
the  wonderful  well-water  'way  up  on  the  hilltop. 

ROSALIE 

Will  they  ever  find  it? 

PETER 

Maybe,  maybe.  If  they  don't  scramble  and 
scratch  and  pull  each  other  down,  like  silly  children ; 


TO-MORROW  11 

and  if  they  learn  how  to  listen  to  old  Mother  Nature 
—  /  guess  they  will. 

ROSALIE 

[Pulling  loose  from  PETER'S  hand] 
Follow  me,  Father  Peter! 
[She  moves  lightly  ahead  of  him,  with  outstretched 

hands. 1 

I  know  the  garden.     /  know  the  paths. 
[Along  the  middle  ground  path,   she  goes  off,   left, 
through  the  -flowers,  humming  to  herself:] 
Jack  and  Jill 
Went  up  the  hill  — 

PETER 

[Following  the  child,  looks  back  with  a  quaint  smile.  ] 
It's   "follow  your  leader,"   Mark:  the  blind  still 
leading  the  blind. —  Coming  along? 

MARK 

Count  on  me,  sir,  for  your  procession. 
[Pausing,  PETER  looks  back  at  MARK,  with  kindly 
scrutiny.] 

PETER 

Thanks.  I  am  counting  on  you,  Mark.  Looks 
like  maybe  there's  a  big  stumble  ahead,  for  some  of 
us  —  where  that  little  one  is  leading. 

MARK 

A  stumble? 


12  TO-MORROW 

- 

PETER 

In  the  dark. —  Two  weeks  she's  been  here? 

MARK 
Just  about. 

PETER 

And  Mana's  a  great  sight  fond  of  her. 

MARK 
Grows  fonder  every  day. 

PETER 
Noticed  it? 

MARK 

It's  mighty  plain.     What's  wrong  about  it? 

PETER 

[Looking  again  in  MARK'S  face,  with  friendly  gaze.] 
There's  my  hand. 

MARK 
There's  mine,  sir. 

[They  clasp  hands. \ 

PETER 

That's  all.     If  anything  should  go  wrong  in  the 
garden,  I  guess  I  can  count  on  a  right-hander. 

MARK 

And  proud  of  your  confidence,  sir. 
[PETER   turns  away,   left.     Glancing   affectionately 


TO-MORROW  13 

toward  MARK,  and  shaking  his  own  left  hand 
playfully  with  his  right,  he  goes  off.  MARK,  tak 
ing  a  pronged  iron  from  beside  the  greenhouse, 
begins  to  follow  him,  but  stops  at  the  head  of  the 
central  path  to  look  at  a  bed  of  seedling  cacti. 
Here,  with  his  back  turned,  he  stoops  down 
and  begins  to  uproot  the  seedlings  with  the 
iron  prong.  From  the  right  is  heard  the  click 
and  closing  of  a  gate,  and  soon,  along  the 
middleground  path,  there  enters  a  man  of  about 
thirty-five,  simply  dressed  in  gray,  with  a  straw 
Panama  hat.  He  is  quiet-mannered,  and  wears 
glasses,  behind  which  his  eyes  twinkle  pleasantly. 
He  is  about  to  pass  MARK,  but  looking  closer, 
touches  him  on  the  shoulder. ,] 

THE    MAN 

Well,  well:     Mark  Freeman! 
[Looking  up,  MARK  gets  to  his  feet  with  a  smile.'} 

MARK 
Professor  Raeburn !     Glad  to  see  you,  sir. 

RAEBURN 

[Shaking  MARK'S  hand.~\ 
What  are  you  doing  here? 

MARK 
Back  again  with  the  master. 


14  TO-MORROW 

RAEBURN 

Lucky  fellow!     So  it's  all  flowers  with  you  now. 

MARK 

Well,  flowers,  fruit  trees,  berry  vines,  and  —  just 
plain  plants. 

RAEBURN 

Experimenting? 

MARK 

Always  at  it.  He's  made  another  vegetable  lately : 
potatoes  grafted  on  tomato  vines.  He's  still  testing 
it. 

RAEBURN 

And  what  a  glorious  laboratory  you  have  here! 
This  is  better  than  ours  in  the  university.  We  miss 
you  over  there,  Freeman:  you  and  that  rare  fellow- 
student  of  yours. 

MARK 

Miss  Dale,  you  mean. 

RAEBURN 

She  was  one  in  a  lifetime.  Do  you  know,  before 
she  came  to  my  class,  I  had  taught  biology  for  years, 
and  never  knew  it  was  poetry.  She  taught  me  that. 
Wonder  how  she  did  it! 

MARK 
Just  enjoyed  it,  I  guess. 


TO-MORROW  15 

RAEBURN 

That's  it.  Nothing  is  dull  to  her.  I  call  her  the 
joy-dynamo.  Everything  she  touches  shoots  out 
sparks  of  pleasure.  She  seems  as  happy  to  compute 
the  orbit  of  a  star  as  to  ride  a  wild  bronco  bare 
back. 

MARK 
That's  her  raising,  sir. 

RAEBURN 

I  wish  there  were  more  raised  like  her? 

MARK 
There  may  be  —  in  California. 

RAEBURN 

You're  right,  Freeman:  Here  is  the  kingdom  of 
To-morrow. —  Which  reminds  me:  Have  you  seen 
the  plans  for  our  new  state-house? 

MARK 

No. 

RAEBURN 

Well,  there's  to  be  a  dome  on  it,  decorated  with 
paintings —  Art,  Philosophy,  Law  —  allegorical  fig 
ures  :  the  same  old,  worn-out  goddesses.  If  I  had  my 
say,  you  know  what  I'd  do? 

MARK 

What's  that? 


16  TO-MORROW 

RAEBURN 

Scrape  the  walls  clean  of  'em  all,  and  place  there 
instead,  high  up  —  no,  not  a  painting,  but  an  image, 
lighted  mysteriously:  a  young  girl,  strong  like  a 
man,  reaching  upward,  half  seen  through  incense; 
and  under  her  foot  —  a  starfish,  and  over  her  fore 
head —  a  star. 

MARK 

[Thoughtfully.'} 
That's  queer. 

RAEBURN 

What? 

MARK 

[Touching  with  his  prong  tJie  starfish  on-  the  ground, 

murmurs  aloud.] 
That's  what  the  child  just  now  — 

RAEBURN 

[More  to  himself  than  to  MARK.] 
And  to  name  our  new  goddess,  I'd  have  painted 
dimly    in   gold   around   the    dome,   one   word:     TO 
MORROW. 

MARK 
To-morrow:  that's  her  name,  you  know. 

RAEBURN 

Miss  Dale's  name? 


TO-MORROW  17 

MARK 

I  called  her  that  when  we  were  kids  to 
gether —  back  in  the  mountains.  We  were  neigh 
bors  there,  in  the  redwoods.  She  had  an  old  Mexican 
nurse,  so  she  used  to  prattle  Spanish.  I  only  under 
stood  one  word:  Mariana,  To-morrow.  I  used  to 
make  fun  of  her  with  it.  Mana,  I  called  her. 
Mary's  her  given  name,  but  Mana  has  always  stuck 
to  her. 

RAEBTJRN 

Mana  —  the  maiden  To-morrow!     Yes,  that's  fit 
ting:     The  old  procrastinating  word  of  the  dreamy 
dons  Americanized,  made  brief,  to  name  the  oppo 
site   spirit    of   our  new   age:  .to-morrow,   foresight, 
dreams  that  act  and  look  forward  —  that's  Mana. 
[Along  the  middleground  path,  left,  ROSALIE  enters, 
and  passes  —  groping  with  outreached  hands  — 
behind  the  greenhouse.     RAEBURN  watches  her 
curiously,  and  turns  to  MARK.] 
Who  was  that? 

MARK 
A  little  waif  girl. 

RAEBURN 

[With  a  gesture.] 
Is  she — ? 

MARK 

Blind  —  yes.     Mana  brought  her  here  from   the 
asylum  about  a  fortnight  ago. 


18  TO-MORROW 

RAEBURN 

What  —  adopted  her  ? 

MARK 

No ;  she's  been  adopted  by  a  friend  of  Mana's ;  Mr. 
Henshawe.  He's  interested  in  charities. 

RAEBURN 

Not  Julian  Henshawe?  —  the  young  senator? 

MARK 
He's  the  man. 

RAEBURN 

That's  good  news.  I'm  glad  to  know  he's  inter 
ested  in  the  blind.  I've  got  to  see  him  about  passing 
our  new  eugenics  bill.  That  may  help  to  stop  some 
nameless  causes  of  blindness. 

MARK 

How's  that? 

RAEBURN 

By  preventing  the  congenitally  blind  —  from  ever 

being  created. 

[By  the  greenhouse  path  enter  two  men.  One,  of 
middle  height,  vividly  handsome,  restless  in  ges 
ture,  of  about  forty  years,  is  dressed  elegantly 
in  riding  clothes  and  carries  a  short  whip.  The 
other,  stocky,  sun-burned,  about  fifty,  is  dressed 
plainly  and  smokes  a  cigar.  The  older  man, 


TO-MORROW  19 

walking  close  in  front  of  the  younger  and  un 
consciously  retarding  his  steps,  is  speaking 
earnestly,  in  a  downright,  uneducated  manner. ~\ 

THE    STOCKY    MAN 

Eighty  foot  in  twelve  years!  That's  what  took 
me,  sir.  And  hard,  clean-grained  timber.  Eighty 
foot  high,  two  foot  diameter,  in  twelve  years! 

THE    OTHER 

[Politely.] 
Remarkable ! 

THE    STOCKY    MAN 

And  he  bred  them  trees  from  mean,  old  walnut 
stock  —  trash  that  wa'n't  more'n  thirty  foot  high  in 
a  century.  He's  done  it,  sir.  I've  tested  the  trees. 
That's  why  I  tell  you,  Senator  Henshawe,  he's  a 
practical  man. 

JULIAST 

[Nodding  approval.] 
Undoubtedly,  my  dear  Westgate ! 

WESTGATE 

Oh,  I  know  there's  folks  call  Peter  Dale  a  fool 
dreamer.  He's  sunk  a  fortune  breedin'  new-fangled 
flowers,  with  fancy  cologne  perfumes.  Well,  I  ain't 
got  no  smell.  And  some  folks  say  his  cherries  are 
plums  and  his  plums  be  peaches.  Well,  I  ain't  got  no 


20  TO-MORROW 

taste.     But  I'm  a  lumberman,  and  I  say  he  beats  the 
Lord  at  makin'  trees. 

JULIAN 

[Trying  deftly  to  pass  WESTGATE  on  the  path.} 
I  must  beg  your  pardon  — 

WESTGATE 

[Buttonholing  him.~\ 

Oh,  no  harm  intended,  Senator.  I  just  talk  plain 
business.  I  deal  in  forests.  I  see  the  sawmills 
skinnin'  the  land's  back  like  a  dead  squirrel.  I  skin 
it  myself.  It's  business.— Now,  sir,  it's  just  this: 
A  skinned  squirrel  don't  fetch  much  for  fur;  and 
I  tell  you  the  last  tip  o'  the  land's  tail  is  in  sight. 
What's  the  cure?  Why,  breedin',  sir:  tree-breedin' ; 
and  Peter  Dale's  the  doctor.  He's  goin'  to  grow 
them  hills  a  new  hide  o'  forests  before  we  can  tan  the 
old  one. 

JULIAN 

[Visibly  bored,  but  still  affable.} 
Most  interesting.     But  where  do  I  — 

WESTGATE 

You  come  in?  That's  easy  I  You  come  in  on 
that  Forest  Improvement  Bill.  That  proposes  for 
the  government  to  back  Peter  Dale  in  his  breedin' 
experiments,  and  to  start  other  experts  along  the 
same  trail. 


TO-MORROW  21 

JULIAN 

But  I  thought  — 

WESTGATE 

You  thought,  maybe,  the  lumber  interests  was 
against  it?  But  we  ain't!  No,  sir:  [TF^/t  a  wi/rik] 
we're  gettin'  put  wise.  We  want  to  hog  the  future 
as  much  as  the  present.  So  go  ahead,  Senator;  go 
right  ahead. 

RAEBURN 

[Having  spoken  aside  with  MARK,  approaches.'] 
And  may  I  add  my  word,  Senator? 

JULIAN 

[Turning  cordially.'] 
Ah,  Professor  Raeburn!  —  How  are  you? 

RAEBURN 

What  applies  to  flowers  and  fruits  and  forest 
trees,  applies  even  more  —  does  it  not  ?  —  to  men. 

JULIAN 

I  don't  quite  follow. 

RAEBUEN 

Take  our  farms  and  lumber  industries  —  good 
stock  is  their  foundation:  Sound  wheat,  sound  cat 
tle,  sound  timber  —  we  have  learned  to  breed  these 
better,  scientifically. 


22  TO-MORROW 

JULIAN 

Very  true.     Well? 

RAEBURN 

So  with  men  and  women,  Americans,  our  people  — 
breed  is  the  sinew  and  soul  of  us :  Sound  Americans, 
Senator,  better  Americans  —  we  must  learn  to  breed 
them,  scientifically. 

WESTGATE 

[Winking  at  JULIAN.] 
Say,  he's  dotty.     I  knowed  he  was  a  professor. 

JULIAN 

[To  RAEBURN.] 

^^  You  interest  me.  Does  this  Eugenics  Bill  pro 
pose  that  the  government  shall  go  into  the  human 
live  stock  improvement  business? 

RAEBURN 

It  proposes,  sir,  that  the  people  shall  raise  their 
children  as  carefully  —  as  their  sheep  and  cattle. 

JULIAN 
In  what  way? 

RAEBURN 

In  two  ways:  By  forbidding  the  production  of 
the  worst  stock,  and  by  encouraging  the  production 
of  the  best. 


TO-MORROW  23 

JULIAN 

And  who  is  to  decide  what  stock  is  the  worst? 

RAEBURN 

The  doctors.  There  are  racial  poisons,  perfectly 
well  known,  which  ravage  the  homes  of  our  people 
with  disease,  insanity  and  crime  far  more  terrible 
than  tuberculosis  or  the  smallpox.  The  laws  of  their 
spreading  are  understood  and  preventable. 

JULIAN 

Indeed ! 

[He  pauses  a  moment,  playing  with  his  whip.] 
And  the  best  stock :     Who  understands  the  laws  of 
breeding  the  best? 

EAEBURN 

The  biologists  —  of  to-morrow.  To-day  we  stand 
only  at  the  outer  gate,  but  we  have  the  key  which 
may  unlock  a  vast  kingdom  of  human  happiness: 
the  law  of  Mendel.  Our  Eugenics  Bill  provides  that 
the  government  shall  help  to  conquer  that  kingdom 
by  three  means :  investigation,  education,  legislation.  *4^ 


JULIAN 


My  dear  Professor  —  [JULIAN  gives  a  light  laugh] 
—  that  Bill  may  be  passed  by  the  Senate  of  the  year 
2000,  not  before. 

[He  starts  to  leave.] 


24  TO-MORROW 

RAEBURN 

Possibly ;  but  I  had  counted,  sir,  that  you  — 

JULIAN 

Pardon  me,  please.  I  have  important  business, 
and  must  get  to  it. 

[Speakmg  to  MARK.] 
I  say  —  young  fellow  1     Where's  Mr.  Dale? 

MARK 

[With  a  leimrely  glance  at  JULIAN,  points  off  left.} 

Over  there.     He's  busy. 

[JULIAN  moves  quickly  away.     RAEBURN  follows  him 
a  few  steps.} 

RAEBURN 

Senator  Henshawe!  One  section  of  our  Bill  will 
interest  you,  I'm  sure.  I  understand  you  are  spe 
cially  interested  in  the  blind. 

JULIAN 
[Pausing  rigidly,  speaks  low  and  constrained.] 

What!  — I? 

RAEBURN 

The  section  relates  to  marriages,  where  the  taint 
which  causes  so  much  congenital  blindness  — 


TO-MORROW  25 

JUUAN 

[Flicking  off  a  cactus  -flower  with  Ms  whip.'} 
That  for  your  Bill! 

[He  goes  quickly  off,  left.] 

RAEBURN 

[Taken  aback.] 
Well! 

[He  takes  off  Ms  glasses  and  dusts  them,  glancing 
oddly  at  MARK.] 

Did  you  say  Senator  Henshawe  had  adopted  the 
little  blind  girl? 

MAIIK 

[Slowly,  returning  RAEBURN'S  look.] 
So  they  say. 

RAEBURN 

[Readjusting  his  glasses  on  his  nose.] 
Well.     I'll  wait  for  Mr.  Dale  in  the  house. 
[He  starts  up  the  greenhouse  path.] 

WESTGATE 

Say,  Professor !     That  word's  a  new  one  on  me. 

RAEBURN 

What  word? 

WESTGATE 

Eu  —  genics :     What  in  the  land  is  it? 


26  TO-MORROW 

RAEBURN 

It's  good  breeding  —  in  the  land. 
[He  goes  out,  right.'] 

WESTGATE 

[Puffing  his  cigar,  stares  after  him.] 
Biologists  —  eu  —  genics  —  ~key  to  the  kingdom! 
Maybe    that's    the    king's    English.     'Tain't    mine! 
Seems   like  that   other   feller   talks   a   different   lan 
guage. 

MARK 

Most  other  fellows  do. 

[Sitting  on  an  inverted  seed-box  in  the  path,  MARK 
is  working  at  the  cactus  bed.  WESTGATE  saun 
ters  over  and  stands  behind  him,  where  he  speaks 
with  crisp  good-nature  to  MARK,  who  barely 
murmurs  his  replies,  being  intent  on  his  work.] 

WESTGATE 

Governor  busy,  eh? 

MARK 

Yes. 

WESTGATE 

Gettin'  ready  for  his  big  annual  test,  ain't  he? 

MARK 
Yes. 

WESTGATE 

To-morrer,  is  it? 


TO-MORROW  27 

MARK 

Yes. 

WESTGATE 

Folks  say,  he  raises  a  million  two-year-old  fruit 
trees,  picks  out  the  best  one  to  breed  by,  and  burns 
the  rest  for  rubbish.  Say!  —  One  out  of  a  million? 
L>  :hat  straight? 

MARK 

Yes. 

WESTGATE 

[Peering  over  MARK'S  shoulder.] 
Cactus  seedlin's  !     What  are  ye  —  weedin'  out  the 
thorny   ones? 

MARK 
That's  it. 

WESTGATE 

Them  tall  ones,  understand  they're  the  thornless 
variety.  Breeds  'em  from  the  thorny  kind,  does  he? 

MARK 

Yes. 

WESTGATE 

[Viewing  MARK'S  imperturbable  back.] 
Say!     Don't  want  a  job  as  Cook's  Guide,  do  ye? 
I'll  drop  round  later  and  inquire. 
[WESTGATE  strolls  up  the  greenhouse  path,  and  dis 
appears.     Without  looking  up,  MARK  continues 
his    weeding.     Through    the   greenhouse    door, 


28  TO-MORROW 


DALE  springs  into  the  garden,  half  run 


ning  —  her  arms  filled  with  brilliant  chaparral. 
She  is  hatless,  and  sun-browned:  a  strong  girl, 
in  her  early  twenties,  free  and  joyous  in  her 
bearing.  She  is  dressed  for  horseback.  Ap 
proaching  behind  MARK,  she  tosses  over  him  the 
mass  of  wild-flowers  and  grasses.] 

MARK 

[Starting  up.~\ 
Mana  ! 

MANA 
Mark  1     She's  an  angel  —  from  nose  to  fetlock  I 

MARK 

[Quizzically.'} 
She  is? 

MANA 

The  new  filly. 

MARK 

So  you've  got  a  new  one? 

MANA 

You  should  have  seen  us  riding  —  riding!  Sea, 
and  sand,  and  sunlight,  and  miles  of  golden  beach! 
—  The  wet  sand  was  a  mirror,  so  upsidedown  we 
went  galloping  double,  on  and  on,  till  splash!  we 
broke  the  mirror  into  fiery  glass  —  up  to  our  knees 
in  bursting  billows  of  green  foam  ! 


TO-MORROW  29 

MARK 

[Watching  her  with  happy  admiration.] 
No! 

MANA 

Yesi  And  the  silvery  sea  gulls  screamed  round 
our  flanks,  and  the  silly  flamingo.es  flapped  their  rosy 
wings  !  —  Mark,  can  you  imagine  it? 

MARK 

[With  a  quiet  laugh.'] 

Guess  I  can.  So  your  new  horse  is  a  winner. 
How  fast  is  she? 

MANA 

As  fast  —  as  happiness.  I  kept  a  half  mile  ahead 
of  him. 

MARK 
Him? 

MANA 

And  he  wore  spurs,  too  ! 

MARK 

Who  did? 

MANA 

At  last  I  jumped  off  and  waited  for  him  in  the 
chaparral. —  There!  I've  brought  you  home  an 
armful  of  it. 

[Tucking  a  spray  in  MARK'S  shirt. ] 
Here's  wild  verbena. 


30  TO-MORROW 

MARK 

[Thoughtfully.] 
Mana:     Who  gave  you  the  new  filly? 

MANA 

Julian  —  Senator  Henshawe.  She's  his  finest 
thoroughbred ;  and  he  loves  her  almost  as  much  as  — 

MARK 
As  what? 

MANA 

Oh,  Mark  I 
[She  seizes  up  a  vermilion  plume  from  the  chaparral, 

and  sways  it  to  her  gesture.'} 

Galloping  —  galloping !  The  hard  sand  under  my 
hoofs,  the  spray  in  my  nostrils,  the  salt  wind  in  my 
lungs,  and  the  hot  sunshine  1 

[From  her  outreached  hand  she  flings  the  plume,  and 
stands  with  fashing  eyes.] 

MARK 

You're  not  yourself,  Mana. 


MANA 


[Starting.] 

No ;  I  don't  seem  to  be. 


MARK 


Got  a  spell  on?     You  were  never  like  this  before. 


TO-MORROW  31 

MANA 

Wasn't  I  ?     What  was  I  —  before  ? 

MARK 

[Slow  and  earnest.] 
See  here :     I  want  you  to  tell  me  — 

MANA 

[With  sudden  introspection,  half  fearful,  as  if  check 
ing  her  thoughts.'] 

No;  you  tell  me,  dear  Mark.  For  I  want  to  hold 
back  and  think.  Tell  me  again  all  that  we  used  to 
play  and  plan  together. 

MARK 

We? 

MANA 

Ever  since  we  were  children,  in  the  redwoods 

and  in  college  —  long  ago  ! 

MARK 
College  was  only  a  year  ago. 

MANA 

[Absently.'] 
Was  it?  — Tell  me. 

[She  sits  on  the  box  in  the  path,  trying  to  focus  her 
thoughts.     MARK  looks  at  tier  curiously.] 

MARK 

What  about? 


32  TO-MORROW 

MANA 

You  know :  how  we  used  to  play. 
[MARK  sits  on  the  ground  beside  her.  She  puts  one 
hand  amid  his  tumbled  hair.  Throughout  their 
scene  together,  by  her  instinctive  actions  and 
looks,  more  than  by  her  words,  it  is  evident  that 
she  feels  for  MARK  deep  trust  and  affection.] 

MARK 
I  guess  your  father  gave  us  our  notions. 

MANA 

Dear  Father  Peter! 

MARK 

You  remember,  after  he  read  us  "  The  Descent  of 
Man,"  he  started  us  off  with  amoebas  and  micro 
scopes  — 

MANA 

And  starfish  in  the  aquarium ;  yes ! 

MARK 

[With  a  laugh.] 

Then  we  were  promoted  to  frog's  eggs.  And  when 
the  little  tadpoles  hatched  out  — 

MANA 

[Smiling.] 
They  grew  to  frog  princes  1 


TO-MORROW  33 

MARK 

Then  the  bone  collections!  Godfrey,  that  queer 
little  prehistoric  horse!  Its  skeleton  wasn't  bigger 
than  a  kitten's. 

MANA 

Father  Peter  made  a  tiny  harness  for  it. 

MARK 
Queer  play  for  kids,  but  fun,  wasn't  it? 

MANA 

[Growing  pensive  again.] 
Playing  is  lots  of  fun. 


MARK 

When  I  see  other  kids,  Mana,  I  realize  the  maste 
raised  us  different. 

MANA 
I  wonder  —  did  he  raise  us  too  different ! 

MARK 
To  make  good  with  our  great  experiment? 

MANA 

What  was  it?     I  half  forget. 

MARK 

Why,  getting  married. 


34  TO-MORROW 

MANA 

[Closing  Tier  eyes.] 
Tell  me  about  that! 

MARK 

You  remember  our  Utopian  colony !  We're  to  go 
out  into  the  desert  in  Arizona,  with  the  cactus  plants 
in  our  schooners,  you  with  your  mate  and  I  with 
mine,  and  there  — 

MANA 

[Murmurs.] 
Into  the  desert ! 

MARK 

And  there  we're  to  start  the  millennium.     [With  a 
smile.]     That's  easy.     For  the  master,  he's  to  pick 
you  a  husband,  and  me  a  wife;  and  the  thornless 
cactus  — 
[MANA  touches  his  arm,  as  if  to  interrupt,  then  speaks 

low.] 

MANA 

Go  on. 

MARK 

That's  to  reclaim  the  desert,  and  be  our  vine  and 
fig  tree.  So  there  we're  to  teach  our  children  to  live 
simply,  and  to  go  on  selecting  wisely  other  mates, 
till  maybe  the  master's  dream  — 


TO-MORROW  35 


MANA 


Oh,  it's  dreaming  of  dreams! 

MARK 

More  than  likely ;  but  anyhow,  there's  the  cactus 
-  not  a  thorn  on  it !     Ten  years  ago,  that  was  dream 
ing  of  dreams. 

MANA 

[Starting  up.~\ 
No,  it's  no  use! 

MARK 

[Anxiously.] 
Man  a  ? 

MANA 

I  told  you  to  tell  it,  but  it  has  no  meaning  now. 
Now  /  must  tell  you  —  ah,  real  wonders ! 

MARK 

[Rising  slowly.'} 
Tell 

MANA 

We're  to  be  married ! 


MARK 

[After  a  pause,  deeply. ~] 


So. 

MANA 


Now  you  know. 


36  TO-MORROW 

MARK 

[Breathing  quick.'] 
Him?     The  Senator? 

[MANA  nods;  then  cries  out,  impetuously.'] 

MANA 

Mark,  dear !  —  kiss  me ! 

[She  moves  toward  MARK,  naive,  confiding.  He  ex 
tends  his  hand,  abrupt,  unconsciously  holding 
her  off.  She  takes  it,  bewildered.} 

MARK 

[Pressing  her  hand.] 
Now  I  know. 

[He  turns  away,  dazed  by  deep  emotions  of  which  he 
is  himself  unaware.  From  the  path  he  lifts  the 
iron  prong.  Bending  it  slowly  in  his  tightened 
hands,  he  flings  it  heavily  from  him.] 

MANA 

[Wonderingly.] 
You're  not  glad  that  I  told  you? 

MARK 

He:     When  did  he—? 

MANA 

Now:  just  to-day. 


TO-MORROW  37 

' 

MARK 

But  you've  hardly  met.  How  long  since?  A  fort 
night? 

MANA 

How  long?  I  don't  know.  I  haven't  thought. 
He  just  happened  —  like  an  enchanted  knight  —  out 
of  fairyland. 

MARK 
Oh,  fairyland! 

MANA 
He  just  came  —  and  carried  me  away. 

MARK 

So  you  chose  him  —  because  he  just  came? 

MANA 

[Puzzled.] 

Chose  him?  There  was  no  choice.  You  don't 
understand. 

MARK 
[Painfully.] 

No,  so  it  seems.  I  don't  just  size  up  —  enchant 
ment. 

MANA 

[Wistfully.] 
You're  glad? 

MARK 

Tell  me  this:     Does  the  master  know? 


38  TO-MORROW 

MANA 

Not  yet.     Julian  has  gone  to  tell  him. 

MARK 
Good.     He'll  size  it  up. 

MANA 

I  wanted  to  tell  you,  the  first.     And  now  —  you 
dear  old  Mariposa  giant  —  won't  you  give  me  a  hug? 

MARK 

[Taking  her  in  his  arms,  kisses  her  tenderly.] 
Little  Mana ! 

MANA 

[Looking  at  him  affectionately.] 
Always  so  solid  and  calm,  like  a  big,  strong  hill ! 

MARK 
Me? 

MANA 

[Listening,  like  a  doctor  for  a  heart-beat.] 
But  not  in  there.     You  know  what's  in  there? 
[MANA  raps  his  chest  with  her  knuckles.     The  spray 
of    verbena    falls    from    MARK'S    shirt    to    the 
path.] 

MARK 
Where? 

MANA 

[With  a  mysterious  smile.] 
Inside  the  hill. 


TO-MORROW  39 

MARK 

What? 

MANA 

Lava  —  red  hot!  I  can  hear  it  thumping.  You 
know  what  will  happen  —  some  day  ? 

MARK 
When? 

MANA 

When  this  that's  happened  to  me  —  happens  to 
you. 

MARK 
Well,  what  then? 

MANA 

The  hilltop  will  burst  and  blow  up,  and  the  lava 
will  rush  out  and  burn  things.  I  wouldn't  like  to  be 
too  near  you  then. 

MARK 

[With  a  puzzled  smile.] 
Wouldn't  you? 

[Outside,  right,  the  voice  of  ROSALIE  calls:  "  Mana! 
Where  are  you?  Mana!"  MANA  listens.'] 

MANA 

Come!     Let's  go  to  the  child. 

[Hand  in  hand,  MANA  and  MARK  go  round  the 
greenhouse.  From  the  left,  on  the  middle- 
ground  path,  enter  PETER  and  JULIAN.  PETER 


40  TO-MORROW 

walks  slowly,  whittling  a  piece  of  bamboo. 
JULIAN  slackens  his  pace  to  PETER'S,  visibly  con 
trolling  a  restless  nervousness.] 

PETER 
My  daughter.     So. 

JULIAN 

\She's  a  fresh  miracle!     There's  no  other  like  her 
in  the  world. 

PETER 
I  believe  you  there. 

JULIAN 

Nothing  can  express,  Mr.  Dale,  how  truly  I  love 
her. —  Nothing ! 

PETER 

Nothing?     Too  bad! 

JULIAN 

Except  my  acts:     They  shall  prove  it  to  you. 

PETER 
That's  better. 

JULIAN 

If  you  would  only  put  me  to  the  test ! 

PETER 

Thank  you,  sir.     Believe  you're  fond  of  horses. 


TO-MORROW  41 

JULIAN 

Very. 

PETER 

Raise  them? 

JULIAN 

I  keep  a  stud  farm. 

PETEE 
Maybe  you'd  tell  me:     How  do  you  pick  the  sires? 

JULIAN 

By  their  pedigree.  I  have  them  selected  by  ex 
perts,  here  and  abroad. 

PETER 

Mr.  Henshawe:  When  I  was  in  Egypt,  at  the 
tombs  of  the  Pharaohs,  I  saw  there  pictures  of  horses 
—  noble  thoroughbreds. 

JULIAN 

They  used  selection  then,  I  suppose. 

PETER 
Ain't  it  singular? 

JULIAN 

What? 

PETER 

How  ancient  this  horse-sense  is  —  for  horses. 


42  TO-MORROW 

JULIAN 

[Fidgeting.] 

I  believe  I  was  saying. —  Your  daughter  — 

PETER 

She's  a  woman,  you'd  say. 

JULIAN 

The  woman  I  love.  She  loves  me.  I  ask  to  marry 
her.  Will  you  trust  her  to  me?  I  have  come  for 
your  answer. 

[Sitting  on  the  bench,  PETER  goes  on  whittling  for 
a  moment;  then  he  hands  to  JULIAN  the  piece  of 
bamboo. ,] 

PETER 
There  you  are. 

JULIAN 
This! 

PETER 

It's  bamboo.  Squint  one  eye,  and  look  through  it 
with  t'other. 

JULIAN 
[Starts   to   do   so,   but  stops,  glancing  sharply  at 

PETER.] 
I  don't  understand. 

PETER 

When  I  was  a  child,  that  would  have  made  a  rare 
toy  for  me. 


TO-MORROW  43 

[He  reaches  for  it;  JULIAN  hands  it  to  him.] 
Just  see. 
[Looking  through  it  with  one  eye,  he  points  it  up- 

ward  and  about  in  various  directions.] 
My,  what  a  spy-glass !  —  Little  round  sky,  blue  as 
marble ;  bright  green  plums ;  purple  tree  tops ;  brown 
squirrel,  nibbling  a  cone;  gray  cat-bird's  nest;  and 
yourself,  Senator:  You  might  be  the  Man-in-the- 
Moon  —  if  I  were  a  child,  now. 

JULIAN 
[Chafing.] 
If  it  pleases  you  to  joke  — 

PETER 

[Quiet  and  intense."] 

It  don't,  sir.  It  hurts  me  much  to  remind  you  that 
this  stick  is  a  wonderful  toy  to  a  happy  child  that 
can  see,  but  not  to  little  Goldylocks  —  your  child. 

JULIAN 
[Starting.] 
What  do  you  mean? 

PETER 
I  mean  to  put  you  to  the  test,  sir,  as  you  asked  me. 

JULIAN 
Speak  plain,  then. 


44  TO-MORROW 

PETER 

Need  I  speak  plainer?     Rosalie  was  born  blind. 

JULIAN 

[Controlling  himself.] 
What  of  that,  now,  to  me? 

PETER 
Now,  and  for  always  —  that  is  my  answer. 

JULIAN 
[Darkly.] 
You  refuse  me  Mana? 

[PETER  resumes  his  whittling.] 

Because  I  took  pity  on  a  little  waif,  and  adopted 
her  as  my  child? 

PETER 

Pity,  sir !     You  should  have  taken  pity  —  before 
she  was  born. 

JULIAN 
Mr.  Dale ! 

PETER 

I  have  heard,  sir,  you  have  three  sisters. 

JULIAN 
You've  heard? 

PETER 

Two  of  them  became  blind  at  birth.     The  other  — 
has  epilepsy. 


TO-MORROW  45 

JULIAN 

[Wincing.] 
Who  told  you  that? 

PETER 

Need  I  go  on?     Your  father  — 

JULIAN 
Stop!     This  is  insufferable. 

PETER 

What,  sir? —  The  truth? 

JULIAN 

From  whom  have  you  heard  these  things? 

PETER 

From  an  old  school-fellow  of  your  father's.     I've 
known  him  since  many  years:     Jlinister  Spofford. 

JULIAN 
[Startled.'} 
Spofford! 

PETER 

He  thinks  the  world  of  Mana;  so  he  came  and 
told  me. 

JULIAN 

[In  lowered  voice.] 
My  God,  did  he  tell—? 


46  TO-MORROW 

PETER 

Everything,  Mr.  Henshawe:  every  thing. 

JULIAN 
About  the  child? 

[PETER  nods.,  whittling.] 
And  did  he. —  And  also  — 

PETER 
The  mother.     Yes. 

JULIAN 

What  right  —  by  God,  I  say,  what  right  had  he 
to  speak,  or  you  to  ask?  Have  you  both  no  honor? 

PETER 

Senator  Henshawe,  sir:  I  have  one  daughter. 
JLf  the  Angel  of  Honor  should  come  a-courting  her, 
\I  would  look  up  his  pedigree.  The  children  of 
Honor  don't  always  take  the  prize. 

JULIAN 
But  Mana:  you  haven't  told  Mana? 

PETER 
She  loves  you  —  I'm  afraid. 

JULIAN 

We  love  each  other,  Mr.  Dale.  You  didn't  tell 
her? 


TO-MORROW  47 

PETER 

Love's   a  great   thing,   Mr.   Henshawe:   'most   as 
great  as  reason. 

JULIAN 

It  would  ruin  me  to  her.     It  would  end  all.     You 
didn't,  Mr.  Dale,  for  God's  sake,  you  didn't? 

PETER 

Not    for    God's    sake,    sir,    but    for    yours.     I 
thought  — 

JULIAN 

{With  a  moan  of  relief.] 
Ah,  thanks  for  that! 

PETER 

—  I  thought  you  loved  her. 

JULIAN 
You  know  that. 

PETER. 

I  still  hope  it. 

JULIAN 

Can't  you  see  how  you've  tortured  me? 

PETER 

{Putting  his  hand  on  JULIAN'S  shoulder.  ] 
I  should  have  seen  it  all  sooner,  my  dear  boy  — 
poor  boy !     But  I  was  so  busy  with  these  other  chil 
dren   [He  indicates  the  flowers],  I  just  didn't  see. 
I'm  sorry. 


48  TO-MORROW 

[He  turns  away.~\ 
My  little,  poor  Mana! 

JULIAN 

But  you  see  now  —  don't  you  ?  —  she  must  never 
know.     She  must  never  be  tortured  as  I  have  been. 
She  is  too  young,  too  joyous.     Besides,  she's  a  girl: 
vSuch  thoughts  are  not  for  girls. 

PETER 

[Darting  a  keen  glance.] 

Not,   eh?     That's   queer!  —  How  long  have   you 
known  Mana? 

JULIAN 

Less  than  a  month,  in  time ;  a  thousand  years  — 
in  love.     Love  justifies  all  things. 

PETER 
"  Love  suffereth  all,  and  is  kind." 

JULIAN 
She  shall  not  suffer,  by  heaven ! 

PETER 

She  must,  sir.     She  loves  too  well:  yes,  even  the 
little  child. 

JULIAN 

[With  a  famt  show  of  cheerfulness.] 
Oh,  well,   as   for  the   child  —  the   lightning,   you 
know,  never  strikes  twice.     The  chances  are  all  to 
the  good. 


TO-MORROW  49 

PETER 

Chances ! 

[He  flushes,  with  contracting  brows.'} 

JULIAN 

I  tell  you,  I've  consulted  a  specialist,  and  he  as 
sures  me  the  chances  are  one  in  a  thousand  — 

PETER 

[With  a  terrible  look.] 
Mr.  Henshawe! 

JULIAN 

[Stiffening.] 
Sir! 

[Clutching  the  bamboo  in  both  hands,  PETER  looks 
hard  at  it,  controlling  himself.  Then,  putting 
it  slowly  in  his  pocket,  he  points  right.] 

PETER 
That  way  's  to  the  road. 

JULIAN 
Indeed!     So  I  misunderstood? 

[Moving  a  few  steps,  he  pauses.] 
Won't  you  give  me  one  chance? 

PETER 
One  chance  —  to  poison  ? 


50  TO-MORROW 

JULIAN 

I  love  her.     Won't  you  listen  — ? 

[He  follows  PETER,  and  cries  out.] 
—  You  won't  tell  her? 

PETER 

[With  deliberation] 

I'll  give  you  this  afternoon  —  to  tell  her  yourself. 
That's  fair. 

[PETER  turns  up  the  central  path.  After  a  moment, 
JULIAN  goes  right,  pausing  by  the  greenhouse 
door] 

JULIAN 
Mr.  Dale:     Will  you  leave  the  decision  to  her? 

PETER 

You  and  I,  sir,  have  nothing  to  do  with  it. 
[JULIAN  goes  into  the  greenhouse.  PETER  goes 
slowly  left,  along  the  middleground  path.  On 
tJie  same  path,  right,  MANA  enters.  Seeing 
PETER,  her  face  lights  up,  and  she  approaches 
softly  behind  him] 

MANA 

Thinking? 

PETER 

[Turning  toward  her] 
My  girl! 
[He  goes  to  her  and  takes  her  extended  hands] 


TO-MORROW  51 

MANA 

[With  eager  happiness.] 
Well? 

PETER 

[Looking  deep  in  her  eyes.] 
It's  all  well  —  there. 

MANA 

Where? 

PETER 

My  girl  has  clear  eyes.     It  will  be  as  she  sees  it. 

MANA 
What's  the  matter?     Hasn't  he  told  you? 

PETER 

He's  going  to  tell  you. 

MANA 

[Quickly.] 
Is  he  ill?     What  has  happened? 

PETER 
Nothing,  child.     It  won't  happen. 

MANA 

I  don't  understand.     You're  unhappy? 

[Slowly,  her  face  clouding  deeply] 
And     I     thought  —  why,     I     thought  —  It's     all 
strange,  like  a  dream ! 


52  TO-MORROW 

PETER 

It  will  be  —  to-morrow. 

[He  turns  away.     MANA'S  face  suddenly  lights  again. 
She  goes  to  him  fondly.] 

MANA 

Oh,  my  dear,  forgive  me!  I  see  now.  It's  you. 
You're  afraid  you'll  lose  me?  What  a  notion!  Of 
course  it  won't  happen.  [Smiling."]  I'll  never  go 
back  on  my  Daddy ! 

PETER 
I  know  that. 

MANA 

Then  why  do  you  gaze  at  me  so? 

PETER 

Child,  look  round  us! 

[He  puts  one  arm  about  her,  and  points  to  the  gar 
den.] 

Here  we  are,  home  folks,  all  together.  Quite  a 
family ! 

MANA 
Dear  flowers! 

PETER 

There  they  are,  toeing  the  line  —  stubborn  little 
upstarts,  growing  up  smart,  all  bowing  "  Hello ! " 
to  their  step-dad,  Peter  Dale. 


TO-MORROW  53 

MANA 

They  don't  look  afraid  of  him. 

PETER 

Oh,  at  first,  they  all  wanted  to  go  their  own  ways ; 
but  they've  had  to  mind  their  pistils  and  quintines,  I 
tell  you.  When  they  were  babies,  I've  bottled  'em, 
and  weaned  'em,  and  boxed  'em,  and  put  'em  to  bed, 
and  tucked  up  their  tendrils.  And  when  they  grew 
bigger  and  put  on  their  petals,  I've  picked  out  their 
wardrobes  and  done  their  courting  and  wedding  for 
*em.  You  might  say,  I'm  kind  o'  nurse,  priest  and 
selectman  combined. 

MANA 

You're  their  dear  old  Father  Nature  —  that's  what 
you  are. 

PETER 

No,  I'm  plain  a  gardener,  learning  how,  and  try 
ing  to  teach  my  family.  Only  here  I've  raised  mil 
lions  of  step-flowers,  but  just  one  flower:  that's 
Mana. 

MANA 

[Kissing  him.] 
Dear  Dad! 

PETER 

Just  so:  just  your  old  useless  Dad.  For  you  see, 
I  can  garden  Mother  Nature's  childer,  but  not  my 
own. 


54  TO-MORROW 

MANA 

You've  brought  us  all  up  together.  Have  I  turned 
out  such  a  naughty-flower-girl? 

PETER 

[Pinching  her  cheek. ~\ 

Well,  kind  of  a  "  sport,"  I'm  glad  to  say.     But 
'tain't  what  you  are;  it's  what  I  can't  do  for  you, 
that  bothers  me  —  when  I  think  of  them. 
[Looking  at  the  flowers,  he  bends  over  the  one  with 

the  white  string.] 
Look  here! 

MANA 
Why,  it's  the  blue  poppy  —  blossomed  f 

PETER 

Yes,  it's  blue.  I  made  it  so,  and  I  can  keep  it  so  — 
for  a  hundred  generations:  true  blue.  Like  you, 
girl. 

MANA 

[Smiling.] 
True  blue,  Dad? 

PETER 

But  see  now!  To  keep  it  true,  I  can  give  this 
poppy  two  things:  environment  and  selection.  But 
you  —  I  can  give  you  only  the  first. 

MANA 
You  mean,  with  selection,  it's  I  that  — 


TO-MORROW  55 

PETER 

I  mean  that  when  my  flower-girl  comes  to  the  blos 
soming,  she  becomes  a  woman;  and  woman  is  herself 
garden  and  gardener,  and  the  flowers  of  God  are  in 
her  keeping. 

MANA 

But  Dad,  dear,  you've  taught  me  that  always. 
Why  do  you  remind  me? 

PETER 

Poppies  need  a  lot  of  reminding.  It's  in  their  sap 
to  hark  'way  back  to  the  old  times :  to  dream  —  and 
forget  to-morrow.  And  as  for  girls  —  There !  I'm 
forgetting  my  fruit  trees  I 

[He  starts  away.] 

MANA 

But  Dad  —  You  haven't  told  me  what  Julian  said. 

PETER 

Oh,  something  for  you  to  decide. 

MANA 

For  him? 

PETER 

For  you  both. 

MANA 

But  can  I? 


56  TO-MORROW 

PETER 

Nobody  else  can. 

MANA 
Is  it  hard? 

PETER 

You  won't  take  long  about  it. 

MANA 

But  tell  me  — 

PETER 

He'll  teU  you. 

[Pausing,   he   watches  something  in   the   air;    then 
catches  it  quickly  with  his  hand,  murmuring  to 
himself:] 
Look  at  that  now! 

MANA 

[Coming  near.] 
What? 

PETER 

[Opens  his  hand,  revealing  a  white,  downy  filament.] 
These  wild  things  will  blow  into  the  garden. 

MANA 
A  milk-weed  seed? 

PETER 

No ;  a  nettle. 
[He  puts  it  in  his  pocket,  murmuring  aloud:'] 


TO-MORROW  57 

To-day  the  seed  of  Man  blows  on  the  wind,  but 

to-morrow  —     Mana !     The   Senator's   coming  back 

soon.     I  leave  you  in  charge  of  the  garden. 

[He  goes  out,  left.     MANA  comes  slowly  down  to  fhe 

pool,  sees  the  starfish,  looks  down  at  it  pensively, 

touching  it  with  her  foot,  and  reaching  upward 

far  arms  in  unconscious   longing.     From   the 

right  ROSALIE  enters,  with  flowers.     She  comes 

toward  the  pool,  humming  low.     Hearing  her, 

MANA  turns. ~\ 

ROSALIE 

Jack  and  Jill 
Went  up  the  hill 

To  fetch  a  pail  of  water; 
Jack  fell  down 
And  broke  his  crown  — 

MANA 

[Running  to  meet  her.] 
And  Jill  came  tumbling  after! 

[Laughing,  she  lifts  ROSALIE'S  face,  kissing  it;  then 
leads  her  to  the  bench.] 

ROSALIE 

Hello,  Mana! 

MANA 

What's  my  Rosalie  got  here? 


58  TO-MORROW 

ROSALIE 

Wildflowers. 

MANA 

Where  did  you  get  them? 

ROSALIE 

Mr.  Spoff ord  fetched  'em  to  me.  He  sent  'way  up 
to  the  mountains  for  'em,  'cause  I  like  wild  flowers 
better  than  tame  ones. 

MANA 

Why? 

ROSALIE 

'Cause  they  don't  smell  so  noisy. 

MANA 

Noisy!     Why,  how  do  wild  ones  smell? 

ROSALIE 

Like  bells  far  away.  But  these  here  in  the  gar 
den,  they're  loud  as  trumpets  —  noontimes,  when  the 
sun's  hot.  What  kind  are  these? 

MANA 
Let  me  see. 

[Sorting  tJiem.~\ 

Here's  lupines,  anemones,  columbines,  wild-pop 
pies,  Cassiopes  —  oh,  lovely  ones:  just  like  those 
Mark  and  I  used  to  pick  in  the  mountains :  blue,  white, 
yellow,  red,  purple ! 


TO-MORROW  59 

ROSALIE 

What's  purple? 

MANA 

This  —  Cassiope. 

ROSALIE 

I  mean  —  you  know:     What's  purple  hisself? 

MANA 

Ohl 

[Looking  in  the  child's  sightless  eyes,  MANA  hesi 
tates  and  her  face  quivers.     Bending  down,  she 
kisses  her.~\ 
You  darling! 
[Then,  assuming  a  quaint  cheerfulness,  she  speaks, 

confidentially.  ] 
Purple's  a  prince,  grand  and  proud! 

ROSALIE 
What's  yellow? 

MANA 

Yellow's  a  dancing  fairy. 

ROSALIE 

What's  red? 

MANA 

Red's  a  laughing  little  devil. 

ROSALIE 

What's  blue? 


60  TO-MORROW 

MANA 

Blue?     Blue's  a  soft,  shy  bird. 

1 

ROSALIE 

I  like  you,  Mana.     You  know  things.     Other  folks 
are  stupid. 

MANA 
Oh,  not  Uncle  Julian.     He  knows  things. 

ROSALIE 
Not  flowers.     He  hates  flowers. 

MANA 

Hates  flowers? 

ROSALIE 

'Cause  Father  Peter  makes  new  ones.     He  said  so 
just  now  to  Mr.  Spofford. 

MANA 

Is  Uncle  Julian  with  Mr.  Spofford  now? 

ROSALIE 

He's  talking  with  him  on  the  piazza.     They  whis 
pered,  but  I  heard  'em. 

MANA 
Talking  about  flowers? 

ROSALIE 

'Bout  flowers   and  newspapers   and   you   and   my 
Mama. 


TO-MORROW  61 

MANA 

[After  a  slight  pause. ] 
Your  Mama,  Rosalie? 

ROSALIE 
Yes;  she  died,  I  guess.     Is  gitimate  died? 

MANA 

Gitimate?  —  I  don't  think  so. 

ROSALIE 

Well,  Uncle  Julian  felt  bad,  anyway.     And  he  told 
Mr.  Spofford  not  to  tell. 

MANA 

[Slowly.'} 
Not  to  tell. 

ROSALIE 

And  then  I  came  away  to  find  my  starfish. 

MANA 

[Picking  it  up,  gives  it  to  her.~\ 
Here  it  is. 

ROSALIE 

Thank  you.     And  I  remembered  its  song:  the  one 
you  teached  me. 

MANA 

[Kneeling  down  beside  her.] 
Yes? 


62  TO-MORROW 

ROSALIE 

"  With  my  fingers  in  the  dark 
I   can  feel — " 

Mana,  what's  the  dark? 

MANA 

It's —  it's  — 

[JULIAN  enters  -from  the  greenhouse.     Not  yet  see 
ing  him,  MANA  puts  her  arms  around  the  child 
and  speaks  low.] 
—  It's  a  secret,  dear. 

JULIAN 

[Tensely,  coming  forward.] 
What's  a  secret? 

MANA 

[Springing  up  at  his  voice] 
Ah,  Julian! 

JULIAN 

Are    you    keeping    something    from    me,    Mana? 
What's  the  child  been  prattling? 

MANA 

She  and  I  have  been  chattering  about  wildflowers 
and  you. 

JULIAN 
[Starting] 
About  me?     So  the  secret's  about  me? 


TO-MORROW  63 

[Glancing  at  ROSALIE,  MAN  A  motions  silence  to  him, 
and  draws  him  away.  Outside,  right,  an  auto 
mobile  horn  is  heard] 

ROSALIE 
Uncle  Julian! 

JULIAN 
[Gently.] 
Well,  Pixy? 

ROSALIE 

You've  forgot  something  to-day. 

JULIAN 
Have  I?     What? 

ROSALIE 

To  kiss  me. 

JULIAN 

[Coming  to  her.] 
Now  I'm  ashamed. 

[He  lifts  her  and  kisses  her  fondly.'] 

ROSALIE 

[As  he  puts  her  down] 
It's  the  third  time.     That's  pretty  bad. 

JULIAN 

[Smiling] 
What  shall  I  do  to  make  up  ? 


64  TO-MORROW 

ROSALIE 

Ask  Mana.     She  knows  things. 

[ROSALIE  turns  away  to  the  bench,  -fingering  her  wild- 
flowers,  which  she  smells  of,  one  by  one.] 

JULIAN 

[As  if  playfully,  to  MANA.] 
Do  you  know  things? 

MANA 

[Gently,  looking  in  his  face.] 
Do  you? 

JULIAN 
[Clouding, ,] 
Why  do  you  ask? 

MANA 

Dear,  you're  worried. 

JULIAN 
I  have  something  to  tell  you. 

MANA 

Father  Peter  said  so. 

JULIAN 
[Quickly.] 

So  you've  seen  your  father?     Just  now? 

MANA 

A  minute  ago. 


TO-MORROW  65 

JULIAN 

[Controlling  emotion.'] 
—  Well,  and  what  did  he  say  about  me? 

MANA 

Why,  nothing.     What  did  he  say  to   you,  when 
you  told  him? 

JULIAN 

He  said  —  He  said  that  — 

KOSALIE 

[Calling,  and  holding  out  a  flower.] 
Oh,  smell  of  this  one ! 

JULIAN 

[Glancing  toward  the  child,  speaks  to  MANA.] 
Dearest,  get  your  hat.     We'll  go  for  a  ride  again, 
shall  we? 

MANA 

Do  you  think  you  can  catch  me  this  time? 

JULIAN 

If  I  don't,  I'll  die  in  the  saddle  1  Come ;  I'll  show', 
you  that  little  bungalow  in  the  cypresses.  Run  in  * 
and  get  your  hat.  I'll  have  the  horses  ready. 

ROSALIE 

[Coming  toward  them.] 
Oh,  go  in  the  carriage,  and  take  me ! 


66  TO-MORROW 

JULIAN 

Not  to-day,  Pixy. 

[He   stoops   to   lift   a   spray   of  verbena   from   the 
path.] 

ROSALIE 
[Pouting.] 
Deary  me  I 

[MANA  starts  to  go  out.  In  front  of  "her,  JULIAN 
holds  out  the  spray  of  verbena.  With  a  bril 
liant  smile,  he  looks  m  her  eyes.] 

JULIAN 

I've  found  a  memento.     You  brought  this  back 
from  our  ride? 

MANA 
An  armful. 

JULIAN 
For  me?     That  was  dear  of  you.     May  I  wear  it? 

[He  reaches  for  her  hand.~\ 
Won't  you  do  me  the  honor  —  ? 

[Offering  the  spray  for  her  to  put  in  his  coat,  he  is 
about  to  kiss  her.] 

MANA 

[Drawing  shyly  away,  waves  to  him,  with  a  smile.] 
In  two  minutes ! 


TO-MORROW  67 

[She  goes  off,  round  the  greenhouse.  JULIAN  stands 
looking  after  her.  Outside  the  click  of  the  gate 
is  heard.] 

ROSALIE 
Uncle  Julian! 

[JULIAN  closes  his  eyes,  as  in  sudden  pain.  Holding 
in  one  hand  her  starfish,  ROSALIE  gropes  with 
the  other  and  twitches  his  coat.] 

Uncle  Julian!     What's  gitimate? 

JULIAN 

[Turning  quickly.] 
Hush,  Rosalie.     Come  into  the  house. 

[He  leads  her  by  the  hand  into  the  greenhouse.  Out 
side,  is  heard  the  querulous,  slightly  husky  voice 
of  a  woman,  calling:  "Ignatius!  Ignatius!" 
Soon  after,  on  the  greenhouse  path,  MRS.  HEN- 
SHAWE  enters.  She  is  a  woman  past  sixty,  of 
hanasome  features,  penetrating  eyes  and  force 
ful  presence,  but  dowdy  in  dress,  and  fidgety 
in  her  slow  movements.  Her  outward  appear 
ance  conveys  a  crass  contrast  of  qualities.  She 
wears  a  dull-colored  gown,  beneath  a  duster  of 
ample  dimensions.  On  her  head  is  an  ultra- 
fashionable  hat,  swathed  in  a  light- green  auto 
mobile  veil,  and  in  her  white- gloved  hand  is  a 
purple  parasol.  Close  behind  her  follows  a 
small,  trig,  business-like  woman  of  about  thirty, 


68  TO-MORROW 

with  twinkling  eyes:  Miss  WINCH.  She  also 
is  dressed  for  automobiling,  but  in  plain,  prac 
tical  garb.  In  her  hands  she  holds  a  small  cam 
era,  which  she  is  focusing  upon  MRS.  HEN- 
SHAWE.] 

MRS.  HENSHAWE 
\_Muttering  audibly.] 
Men !     These  men !     Did  he  expect  me  to  wait  for 

him  in  the  motor! 

. 

v 

MISS    WINCH 

[Cheerily.] 
More  in  the  sun,  please ! 


MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[Turning  portentously  to  stare  at  her.] 
Now,  what  are  you  snapshotting  there? 

MISS  WINCH 
[Clicking  her  kodak.] 

The  Honorable  Mrs.  Henshawe,  President  of  the 
Social  Topics  Society,  bestowing  her  congratulations 
on  the  daughter  of  the  Wizard  Plant  Breeder  —  Miss 
Mana  Dale,  engaged  to  her  son,  the  Senator.  Front 
page !  Portrait  by  Winch,  Special  Artist  of  "  The 
Live  Rail !  " 

[She  laughs  pleasantly.] 


TO-MORROW  69 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[Gasping.'] 

Well,  of  all  — ! 

[She  sinks  into  a  garden  chair,  near  the  greenhouse. 
Miss  WINCH,  tucking  the  kodak  under  her  arm, 
takes  a  small  pad  from  her  hat9  and  a  pencil 
from  her  glove.] 

MISS  WINCH 

Seen  the  announcement  in  this  morning's  edition? 
[MRS.  HENSHAWE  moves  the  open  parasol  between 
them,  raises  her  voice,  and  calls:] 

MES.    HENSHAWE 

Ignatius ! 

[Muttering  agam.] 

My  stars,  these  clergymen!     They're  worse  than 
women:  dawdling,  dawdling! 

MISS  WINCH 
[Writing  on  her  pad.] 

Rev.  Mr.  Spofford,  in  Mrs.  Henshawe's  car,  Has 
tens  to  join  in  congratulations. 

[Peering  round  the  parasol.] 
Is  that  correct? 

[Closing  the  parasol,  MRS.  HENSHAWE  looks  at  her 
with  dumb  reproof.  Miss  WINCH  bites  her 


70  TO-MORROW 

It  is  detestable,  ma'am,  but  it's  my  job. —  Salary 
and  city  editor's  orders  I  You'll  forgive  me? 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[Rising.] 

Well,  young  person,  all  the  world,  I  suppose,  must 
earn  its  living  —  nowadays.  But  I  was  born  before 
your  time. 

[Crossing  to  the  bench,  she  calls  again:] 
Ignatius ! 

MISS  WINCH 
[Following  her.] 

Report  of  engagement  absolutely  false:  Is  that 
what  you  wish  to  say? 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

I  wish  to  say  nothing  —  if  you'll  let  me.  My  son 
told  me  explicitly  to  say  nothing  —  before  this  even 
ing. 

MISS  WINCH 

All  the  world  is  so  interested  in  your  son. 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

Now,  if  only  it  were  somebody  else's  son !  If 
there  is  one  gift  from  God,  it's  a  little  gossip  about 
somebody  else's  children.  But  to  bottle  up  one's  own 
business  in  one's  own  mouth  —  it's  enough  to  make 
the  cork  fly  in  the  Devil's  face ! 


TO-MORROW  71 

MISS    WINCH 

First  met  her  in  the  Blind  Asylum,  we  understand. 
[Mus.  HENSHAWE  turns  to  speak,  but  closes  her  lips 

again  grimly.'] 
So  attached  to  the  child! 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

Julian's  a  fool.     I  told  him  so.     He  would  insist 
on  adopting  the  poor  thing. 

MISS  WINCH 
So  romantic! 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

Oh,  he's  romantic,  when  it  comes  to  women.     He 
fairly    magnetizes    'em.     Fee-faw-fum,    fair    ladies !\ 
They  can't  resist  him.     Just  like  his  father. 

MISS  WINCH 
Inherited ! 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[Rising,  flustered.] 
I  never  said  so. 

MISS  WINCH 
Sorry,  ma'am. 

[Enter,  right,  on  the  middle  ground  path,  RAEBURN 
and  MARK.  MARK  is  pushing  a  wheelbarrow, 
with  a  shovel  m  it.  They  stop  by  the  cactus 
bed.] 


72  TO-MORROW 

MARK 

[Earnestly,  to  RAEBUEN.] 
You  say  it  sometimes  skips  a  generation? 

RAEBURN 

Sometimes  —  but  seldom. 

MISS  WINCH 
[Glancing  toward  the  men,   speaks   to  MRS.   HEN- 

SHAWE.] 
Belong  here? 

[From  the  greenhouse,  MANA  enters.  She  wears  a 
felt  hat  and  carries  a  short  whip.  Seeing  MRS. 
HENSHAWE,  she  comes  forward  graciously.] 

MANA 

Dear  Mrs.  Henshawe  1 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[With  open  arms] 

Sweet  child !     My  pretty  Mana !     Well,  well,  well ! 

[She  embraces  MANA,  with  cordial  ejaculations,  while 

Miss  WINCH,   at   one  side,  points   the  camera. 

RAEBURN,  indicating  the  three  women,  speaks  to 

MARK.] 

\^^  RAEBURN 

There  are  the  Three  Fates,  Freeman:     Yesterday, 
To-day,  and  To-morrow ! 


TO-MORROW  73 

MARK 

[Glancmg.] 
All  women. 

[He  begins  to  shovel  the  weeded  cacti  into  his  wheel 
barrow.  Leaving  him,  RAEBURN  passes  along 
the  middle  ground  path  and  goes  out,  left.] 

MANA 

[To  MRS.  HENSHAWE.] 
When  did  you  come?     Has  Julian  told  — 

[Catchmg  sight  of  Miss  WINCH,  who  clicks  the  cam 
era,  MANA  checks  herself,  and  bows  slightly.'] 
Oh !  I  beg  your  pardon. 

MISS  WINCH 

That's  funny.  They  usually  tell  me  to  do  that. 
But  —  but  I  do  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Dale.  You 
see,  it's  bread  and  butter ;  and  in  my  business,  there's 
no  butter  in  good  manners.  You  do  understand? 

MANA 

[With  a  smile.] 
Why,  certainly. 

MISS  WINCH 
That's  nice  of  you.     Good  day ! 

[She  goes  off  by  the  greenhouse  path.] 


74  TO-MORROW 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[Starting  after  her.~\ 
Phenomenal ! 

[Then  turning,  'with  a  wreath  of  smiles,  to  MANA.] 

And  now,  you  sweet,  sweet  thing,  tell  me  all  about 
it! 

MANA 

[Simply.] 

Really,  there's  nothing  to  tell.  It's  all  just  — 
just  feeling. 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

Yes,  yes,  of  course.  Don't  /  know?  First  love, 
and  first  kisses  and  full  moons ! 

MANA 

[TFif^  increasing  reserve.] 
Please,  Mrs.  Henshawe ! 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

If  there  is  one  gift  from  heaven  that  I've  made  my 
specialty,  it's  the  first  love  of  two  unspoiled  hearts 
that  beat  as  one.  You  might  say,  I've  devoted  my 
life  to  it,  my  dear.  Sympathy:  sympathy  with 
young  souls  —  and  a  little  chat  about  it !  Oh,  that's 
why  I  never  grow  old.  They  may  call  it  a  cruel 
world,  a  sinful  world,  my  dear ;  but  "  Love  among  the 
Ruins  ":  it's  still  "  Love  among  the  Ruins  "  for  me! 


TO-MORROW  75 

MANA 

[Uneasily.] 
Have  you  seen  Julian? 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

Ah,  the  Benedick,  the  Benedick!  There's  a  ro 
mantic  boy!  He  was  born  to  be  a  lover,  my  dear, 
and  a  poet ;  but  they  dragged  him  into  politics ;  and 
to  be  sure,  there's  some  money  in  it.  But  to  think 
it  should  be  you  to  steal  his  old  bachelor  heart  at 
last!  —  Plow  did  you  wheedle  him?  Thirty-six! 
That's  a  stubborn  age  —  for  marriage.  "  Who's 
Who  "  puts  him  down  forty,  but  shouldn't  I  know ! 
Thirty-seven  his  next  birthday.  And  you,  my  love: 
twenty-five  ?  twenty-four  ? 

MANA 

[Retreating.'] 

Twenty-four.  I  think  I  must  go  and  find  him. 
He  said  —  if  you  will  excuse  — 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

Will  I?  Will  I?  Don't  I  know!  Heart  to 
heart,  wing  and  wing,  wireless  messages,  magnets  — 
magnets  !  Tell  Julian  — 

[She  pauses  in  consternation.  MANA,  going  out, 
right,  has  smiled  and  tossed  a  kiss  to  MARK  in 
the  background.  Beholding  it,  MRS.  HEN 
SHAWE  stands  open-mouthed.~\ 


76  TO-MORROW 

Highty-tighty  1     Lignum  vitae  1     So  —  so  ! 

[Sitting  on  the  bench,  she  leans  sidewise  and  squints 
at  MARK,  who  is  at  work.  Then,  opening  and 
raising  her  parasol,  she  rises  and  walks  toward 
him,  up  the  central  path.  Here  she  hems  in  her 
throat,  and  speaks  with  distinct  affability.] 

Beautiful  flowers ! 

[At  her  voice,  MARK  drops  his  wheelbarrow  precip 
itately  and  moves  off.] 

MARK 
Fine! 

[He  goes  out,  left.  MRS.  HENSHAWE  follows  as  far 
as  the  cross  path  and  peers  after  him.  Enter, 
from  the  greenhouse,  JULIAN  and  a  plump,  eld 
erly,  clerical  gentleman,  earnest  and  urbane: 
MR.  SPOFFORD.] 


H. 


SPOFFORD 

;No,  Julian.  It's  against  my  conscience.  You 
ve  suffered,  and  caused  suffering,  too  much  by 
ignoring  the  sanctity  of  social  usages.  I  cannot 
permit  you  to  err  a  second  time,  without  protest. 


JULIAN 

But  there's  to  be  no  ignoring  of  social  usages. 
I'm  going  to  — 


TO-MORROW  77 

SPOFFORD 

Not  to  mention,  I  say,  something  else  —  which 
cannot  be  mentioned.  You  must  remember,  I  have 
known  Mana  also  since  childhood.  The  happiness 
of  you  both  is  equally  dear  to  me. 

JULIAN 

Well,  then,  if  you  really  care  for  our  happiness, 
you  will  not  interfere  now. 

SPOFFORD 

But  this  announcement  of  your  engagement  in  the 
newspapers.  When  are  you  going  to  deny  it? 

JULIAN 

I'm  not  going  to  deny  it.  I've  told  you:  there's 
no  danger  whatever. 

SPOFFORD 

Julian !     After  your  talk  with  Mr.  Dale  — 

JULIAN 

What  right  had  you  to  speak  to  him !  It  was  dis 
honorable  —  damnable !  As  for  my  marriage  — 
that's  not  your  gamble. 

SPOFFORD 
[Start'mg  back.] 
Gamble!     How  dare  — 


78  TO-MORROW 

JULIAN 

I  repeat!  This  is  a  matter  which  concerns  only 
Mana  and  me.  Mr.  Dale  saw  the  justice  of  that. 
He  has  left  the  decision  to  Mana. 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[Approaching  from  the  middle  ground.] 
Men,    men!     Always    wrangling  —  never    reason 
ing!     What's    the    discussion?     Now,    now,    Julian 
dearest:  [Offering  her  cheek\  A  kiss  for  your  mother? 

JULIAN 

[Pacing  to  and  fro.] 
Good-morning,  Mother;  good-morning! 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

Not  at  all;  it's  afternoon.  And  no  kisses?  —  Re 
served,  I  suppose,  for  others  —  not  mothers !  Now, 
now,  Ignatius ! 

[SPOFFORD  starts  uneasily.] 

No,  not  a  kiss :  an  apology ! 

SPOFFORD 

From  me? 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

How  much  longer,  Ignatius,  how  much  longer  — 
must  I  sit  in  the  motor? 

SPOFFORD 

My  dear  Sally  — 


TO-MORROW  79 

JULIAN 

Why  did  you  bring  him  now,  Mother? 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[Bristling. ] 

I?  I  didn't:  he  came!  He  said  he  wanted  to 
speak  with  you  about  your  engagement. 

JULIAN 
[Morosely.] 

He  wants  me  to  break  it. 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

Break  what? 

JULIAN 

Break  my  oath,  and  my  honor,  and  Mana's  heart, 
and  my  own!  Do  you  wish  this  too,  Mother?  Do/ 
you  wish  it  —  for  the  sanctity  of  social  usages  ? 

SPOFFORD 

Of  course  she  wishes  it. 

MILS.    HENSHAWE 

My  dear  boy  —  it's  all  one  to  me ! 

JULIAN 
All  one! 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

I'm  a  great  believer  in  social  usages,  if  that's  what 
you  mean.  And  I  never  let  my  heart-breaks  stand 


80  TO-MORROW 

in  the  way  of  my  happiness.     But,  of  course,  you 
must  judge  for  yourself. —  What's  her  income? 

JULIAN 

[Turning  away,  bitterly.] 
Mother ! 

SPOFFORD 

{With  reproof.] 
Sally! 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[Glancing  toward  the  cactus  bed.~\ 
Judging  by   looks,   it  wouldn't  half  fill  a  wheel 
barrow. —  You  blessed  child ! 

[  With  effusion  she  greets  MANA,  who  enters  from  the 
greenhouse] 

SPOFFORD 

[Also  greeting  her] 
Well,  well! 

MANA 

Dear  Uncle  Spoff ord  —  halloa ! 

•  SPOFFORD 

[Kissing  her  hand] 
Always  lovelier,  I  declare ! 

JULIAN 

[TFi£/&  repressed  excitement] 
Mana !  —  The  horses  are  ready. 


TO-MORROW  81 

MANA 

So  am  I.     I've  been  hunting  for  you. 

JULIAN 
Come. 

[He  takes  her  riding  whip,  and  starts  to  go,  right. 
In  the  left  middle  ground,  MARK  reenters.] 

SPOFFORD 

[Uneasily. ,] 
Wait.     Julian  has  something  to  tell  you. 

MANA 

[Quietly.] 
I  know. 

SPOFFORD 

You  know  —  what  it's  about? 

JULIAN 

[To  SPOFFORD.] 
Stop! 

[To  MANA.] 
Come! 

SPOFFORD 
[With  excitement.} 

It's  about  the  child. 

[MRS.  HENSHAWE  gasps,  and  hurries,  gesticulating, 
to  SPOFFORD.] 


82  TO-MORROW 

MANA 

[To  JULIAN.] 
Rosalie? 

JULIAN 
Yes.     Will  you  come?     We'll  discuss  it. 

SPOFFORD 

Wait !  —  Children,  my  conscience  will  not  permit 
you  to  go  yet.  As  your  oldest  friend,  I  claim  the 
right  to  discuss  this  with  you  now  —  before  you  do 
anything  rash. 

MANA 

Rash,  Uncle  Spofford? 

JULIAN 

Mana,  do  you  wish  me  to  tell  you,  or  him  ? 
[He  is  drawing  Tier  away.     They  are  entering  the 
greenhouse.     SPOFFORD  puts  aside  MRS.  HEN- 
SHAWE,  who  is  trying  to  whisper  to  him,  and 
speaks  with  perturbed  command.] 

SPOFFORD 

The  child,  I  say, —  Julian,  speak  now  and  here ! 
Or  shall  I? 

JULIAN 

[With  sudden  coolness.] 
I  will. 


TO-MORROW  83 

[With  set  face  he  returns.     After  a  pause,  he  speaks 
huskily.'] 

Manu,  the  child  is.  mine. 

MANA 

[Very  low.] 
The  child. 

JULIAN 

My  own  —  illegitimate.     Now  I  have  told  you. 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[With  ineffectual  gestures.] 
My  God! 

JULIAN 

This  clergyman,  with  his  conscience,  has  forced  me 
to  tell  you  like  this  —  brutally,  inhumanly. — 

[With  supplication.'} 
—  Mana,  my  dear! 

MANA 

[Very  gently.] 
She  told  me. 

JULIAN 
[Awe-struck.] 
She?— -Rosalie? 

MANA 

That  she  died  —  and  you  loved  her  — 


84  TO-MORROW 

JULIAN 

Yes,  it  is  true.     And  I  am  not  ashamed.     [Look 
ing  at  SPOFFORD.]      But  lie  is  —  our  friend  —  he  is 
ashamed.     He   tells   me   that  because   of   the   chil 
whom  I  love,  and  whose  mother  I  loved,  I  have  n< 
right  to  you  —  that  I  must  give  you  up  1 

SPOFFORD 
[To  MANA.] 

My  dear,  don't  you  see,  it  would  surely  come  out 
in  the  end;  it  would  all  be  discovered. 

MANA 

Discovered  ? 

SPOFFORD 

The  whole  scandal. 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[Sinking  on  to  the  bench,  in  tears.] 
Men,  men! 

MANA 

Discovered?  That  he  raised  the  child,  you  mean? 
and  adopted  and  cared  for  it,  instead  of  casting  it 
adrift  on  the  world  —  like  so  many  little  ones  —  to 
struggle  for  life  and  love? 

SPOFFORD 
[Embarrassed.] 
You  see  —  there  are  —  are  complications ;  and  be- 


TO-MORROW  85 

ing  a  public  man,  it  could  never  be  concealed.     Dear 
girl,  now  you  can  see  why  my  conscience  forbade  — 

JULIAN 
Mana!     Does  your  conscience  forbid? 

MANA 

I'm  afraid  I  don't  know.     I've  never  discovered  my 
conscience.     I've  only  just  discovered  my  heart. 

JULIAN 

[Springing  to  her  side.] 
Ah!     Then  you've  decided? 

MANA 

Father  Peter  said  it  wouldn't  take  me  long. —  Are 
the  horses  saddled? 

JULIAN 

[Going  with  her.~\ 
Mana,  my  dear  love ! 

[They  go  out.     As  they  go,  MARK  —  from  the  mid 
dle  ground —  comes  slowly  forward.] 

SPOFFORD 

[Intensely.] 
Sally!     They're  gone!     What  shall  we  do? 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[Rising,  m  great  agitation.] 
Let  them  go ! 


86  TO-MORROW 

SPOFFORD 

But  the  blindness  —  the  cause. —  Great  heaven ! 
He  didn't  tell  her  the  worst.  He  omitted  to  men 
tion  — 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[ShrSly.] 

Stop  it!  If  you  mention  anything  else,  I'll  have 
hysterics ! 

[Slie  hurries  off,  along  the  greenhouse  path.  SPOF- 
FORD  starts  to  follow  her.  As  he  passes  the  cen 
tral  path,  MARK  steps  abruptly  in  his  way.'] 

SPOFFORD 
[Trying  to  pass.] 
I  beg  your  pardon  — 

MARK 

[Tensely.] 
What  was  it  he  omitted  to  mention?     Tell  me. 

SPOFFORD 

On  my  word!     Who  are  you?     A  gardener? 

MARK 
Yes.     Tell  me. 

SPOFFORD 

[Avoiding  MARK'S  eye.] 
Is  anything  wrong  in  the  garden? 


TO-MORROW  87 

MARK 

So  it  seems.     [With  quiet  menace. ]     Tell  me! 

SPOFFORD 

Insolence!     What  do  you  want? 

MARK 
[Slowly.] 
I  want  you  to  tell  me. 

SPOFFORD 

Let  me  pass.     Are  you  mad? 

MARK 

[Breathing  hard.] 
If  you  don't  tell  me  —  I  think  I  will  kill  you. 

SPOFFORD 

[Looks  in  MARK'S  quivering  face.] 
Young  man  —  If  you  are  really  —  Well,  then  — 
Don't  speak  it  aloud! 

[He  whispers  an  instant  to  MARK,  whose  flushed  face 
sets  pale  and  hard.] 

MARK 
So! 

SPOFFORD 

[Hurrying  past  him  up  the  path.,  glances  backward 

in  fear.] 
God-a-mercy ! 


88  TO-MORROW 

[He  disappears.  The  gate  clicks.  MARK  stands 
with  closed  eyes  and  clenched  hands.  Outside, 
right,  the  clatter  of  horses'  hoofs  sounds  harsh 
on  the  stone  court,  then  muffled  on  the  roadway. 
Meantime,  in  the  left  middleground,  PETER 
DALE  enters  quietly.  Hearing  the  hoofs,  MARK 
starts,  and  runs  up  the  central  path,  meeting 
PETER.  There,  clutching  PETER'S  arm,  he 
points  along  the  row  of  eucalyptus  trees,  staring. 
The  sound  of  galloping  grows  fainter  in  the 
distance. 


CURTAIN. 


ACT  SECOND 


ACT  SECOND 


Among  the  cypresses  on  the  California  coast.  A 
cliff,  overlooking  the  sea.  The  scene  is  sparsely 
overshadowed  by  somber  wraiths  of  trees:  writh 
ing  bouglis  and  contorted  skeleton  trunks, 
twisted  slantwise  -from  the  shore,  from  which  the 
stricken  grove  seems  to  be  -fleeing  in  rooted 
frenzy.  Through  the  dun-green  foliage  and 
stark  gray  silhouettes,  the  setting  sun  reddens 
the  purple  Pacific  between  fog-banks.  On  the 
left,  a  jutting  elevation  of  the  cliff  rises  above 
the  scene's  level,  and  scrambles  in  sharp,  rocky 
heaps  beyond  sight,  leaving  a  rough-sided  stone 
niche,  on  the  ground  level,  shut  off  from  the  sea 
and  the  winds.  By  this  stands  a  boulder;  near 
by,  lies  the  log  of  a  fallen  tree.  On  the  right, 
clutched  and  half  concealed  by  the  cypresses, 
the  porch  and  squat  roof  of  a  small  bungalow 
blend  with  the  surroundings. 

From  the  left  enters  a  woman,  wearing  a  gray  auto 
mobile  veil.     She  is  followed,  with  quick  steps, 
by  a  man  dressed  in  a  chauffeur's  uniform.     The 
91 


92  TO-MORROW 

woman  looks  about  her  furtively;  goes  to  the 
porch  and  tries  the  door;  then  peers  through  a 
slit  in  the  shade-drawn  window.  The  woman  is 
Miss  WINCH. 


MISS  WINCH 
Have  they  tied  their  horses  yet? 

THE    CHAUFFEUR 

Just  hitched  'em  yonder  in  the  lean-to.     Coming 
this  way. 

MISS  WINCH 
[Points  off  right.] 

How  near  to  the  shore  is  the  main  road  —  that 
way? 

CHAUFFEUB 

'Bout  a  quarter  mile.     Turns  a  loop  there  into  the 
tall  pine. 

MISS  WINCH 

Go  back  to  the  auto  and  wait.     When  you  hear 
me  whistle  —  this  — 

[She  blows  softly  a  little  whistle  attached  to  her 
watch  chain.] 

—  blow  your  motor  horn  in  answer,  and  take  the 
car  round  to  the  loop.  I'll  join  you  there.  We'll 
attend  to  those  other  assignments  later. 


TO-MORROW  93 

CHAUFFEUR 

O.  K. 

[He  goes  out.  The  woman  stands  a  moment,  looking 
off  left;  then  she  moves  quickly  toward  the 
bungalow,  and  disappears  behind  it.  Enter, 
left,  MANA  and  JULIAN.  MANA'S  face  is 
vaguely  troubled.  She  walks  close  to  JULIAN, 
who  appears  rather  to  lead  than  to  accompany 
her.  Restively  she  turns  her  head,  glancing 
from  tree  to  tree.~\ 

JULIAN 
We're  almost  there.— What's  the  matter? 

MANA 

[In  a  low  voice.] 
They  seem  half  human. 

JULIAN 

Are  you  afraid,  dear? 

MANA 
Alive  in  death  —  like  ghosts. 

JULIAN 

What  are  you  talking  about? 
[MANA  points  —  with  a  gesture  at  once  fascinated 

and  repelled  —  toward  the  trees.] 
—  The  cypresses  ? 


94  TO-MORROW 

MANA 

I've  never  been  among  them  before.  I  never 
dared. 

JULIAN 

[With  a  laugh.] 
Silly  child!     Afraid  of  cypress  trees? 

MANA 

Often  I've  ridden  past  them  on  the  bright  road. 
But  I  always  galloped  by.  They  seemed  like  things 
in  a  nightmare  —  reaching  long  arms,  and  trying  to 
scream,  but  dumb. —  Do  you  think  they  suffer? 

JULIAN 
What  nonsense ! 

MANA 

Julian,  don't  you  see:  they're  trying  to  escape 
from  something;  they  stare  always  backward  in  ter 
ror.  Even  the  dead  ones  struggle. 

JULIAN 

Naturally;  they've  fought  the  sea-winds  for  a 
thousand  years. 

MANA 

Fought  for  life  for  a  thousand  years ! 

JULIAN 
That's  what  makes  them  so  picturesque. 


TO-MORROW  95 

MANA 

Always  to  be  rooted  where  their  seeds  fell  —  in  the 
bitterness  of  the  wind  —  just  to  cling  to  life! 

JULIAN 
The  survival  of  the  fittest,  my  dear  1 

MANA 

Where  the  fittest  are  the  saddest. 

JULIAN 
[Taking  Tier  arm,  leads  Tier  nearer  the  bungalow.'} 

Come,  come;  my  garden  girl  must  learn  to  love 
these  wild  things.  These  stunted,  storm-beaten 
shapes  are  romantic,  beautiful  in  their  grimness. 

MANA 

May  be  so.  But  always  I  have  loved  to  see  things 
of  joy,  not  sorrow. 

JULIAN 

Why  then,  forget  them.     Look  there! 
[He  points;  she  gazes  a  moment,  without  speaking. 

He  shows  his  disappointment.] 
-Well? 

MANA 

[Murmurs.] 
Your  bungalow? 


96  TO-MORROW 

JULIAN 

[Softly.] 
Ours. 

MANA 

[With  sinking  voice.] 
How  gray  it  is,  and  still! 

JULIAN 
You're  tired,  dear. 

[Going  to  the  porch,  he  unlocks  the  door.] 
Come  in.     The  sun  has  set. 

MANA 

[Looking  back  at  the  cypresses.] 
For  a  thousand  years! 

[They  go  within  and  disappear.  After  a  brief  pause, 
MARK  enters  from  the  left.  He  is  heated  with 
riding,  and  covered  with  dust.  Going  hastily 
toward  the  bungalow,  he  pauses  near  the  door, 
gazing  in.  Slowly  then  he  moves  off,  right,  and 
disappears  among  the  trees,  as  JULIAN  and  MANA 
come  out  again.] 

JULIAN 
And  what  do  you  say  to  our  bungalow  ? 

MANA 
You  built  it? 


TO-MORROW  97 

JULIAN 

Every  rafter  and  shingle  —  with  dreams  of  you. 

MANA 

It  looks  as  if  it  had  grown  here,  ages  ago.  Have 
you  dreamed  of  me  for  so  long? 

JULIAN 

[With  embarrassment.] 
Why, — Why,  of  course  —  ages ! 
[MANA  steals  away  from  the  house.     He  follows  anx 
iously.] 
Mana,  what  is  it? 

MANA 

It  reminds  me  of  something. 

JULIAN 
Of  what? 

MANA 

When  I  was  a  child  —  a  picture  in  Grimm's  Fairy 
Tales:  a  little  house  in  the  woods.  It  used  to  scare 
me.  Underneath  it  was  written: 

"  Deep  in  the  twilight  wood  was  a  robber's  hut." 

JULIAN 

\Playfully  assuming  a  terrible  aspect.] 
Aha!     Behold  the  robber! 

[Laughing,  he  seizes  her.] 
Yield,  captive  princess ! 


98  TO-MORROW 

MANA 

[Draws  away  fearfully.] 
Don't  kiss  me  —  here. 

JULIAN 
[Discomfited.] 
And  why  not  here? 


MANA 


I  don't  know.     Maybe  we  have  no  right  to  bring 
happiness  here. 

[Gazing  about  her.] 
Somehow  they  seem  to  watch  us,  with  sad  eyes. 

JULIAN 

[Growing  gloomy.] 
I'm  afraid  it's  not  just  the  trees. 

MANA 

[Moving  farther  away.] 
You,  too,  are  strange  —  here. 


JULIAN 
Tell  me :     Are  you  thinking  —  about  the  child? 


MANA 
[Pensively.] 

We  must  love  her  very  much,  mustn't  we?     It  is 
terrible  to  be  blind. —  How  long  has  she  been  so  ? 


TO-MORROW  99 

JULIAN 

I  feared  you  were  brooding  on  that.     Do  you  think 
the  worse  of  me? 

MANA 

Worse?     No,     dear    Julian;    only    differently. — 
You've  always  cared  for  her? 

JULIAN 

Always. 

MANA 

Then  why — ? 

[She  pauses.] 

JULIAN 
[Uneasily.'} 
Well? 

MANA 

Why  haven't  you  told  her? 

JULIAN 
[Startled.} 
Told  her!  —  Rosalie? 

MANA 

Daddy    is    so    much    dearer    than    uncle:     Uncle 
Julian. 

JULIAN 

[Looking  at  the  ground  and  shifting  his  feet.] 
Oh,  that  you  mean! 


100  TO-MORROW 

[He  is  silent  for  a  moment;  then  glancing  up,  he  is 
about  to  speak,  when  MANA  contmues  pen 
sively.] 

MANA 

Always  it's  been  a  dear  name  to  me  —  at  home  in 
the  garden. 

JULIAN 
[Nervously.'] 
Mana  — 

MANA 

Do  you  know,  I  believe,  before  you  came, —  my 
garden  was  the  world,  and  Father  Peter  was  God. 

JULIAN 

Do  you  mean  that  I  crawled  like  Old  Nick  into 
your  Eden? 

MANA 

Don't  tease.  No,  but  he  always  taught  me  to 
think,  and  just  to  think  was  happiness:  to  study  flow 
ers  and  stars  and  fruit  trees ;  to  train  wild  plants  to 
be  thoroughbred;  to  know  the  rising  of  the  Dip 
per  and  the  constellations.  It  was  all  fun  —  but  so 
quiet.  Till  one  day  came  a  great  rumbling.  I 
looked  over  the  garden  fence,  and  there  through 
the  dust  came  a  strange  knight  riding,  and  I  thought 
—  like  poor  Henny  Penny  —  surely  the  sky  is  f  all- 
ing  1 


TO-MORROW  101 

JULIAN 

[With  a  smile.'] 
A  knight!     Bless  me,  who  was  he? 

MANA 

Ah,  Julian  the  Enchanter !  since  that  day,  my  lord, 
I  have  been  under  your  spell:  my  garden  has  been 
shaken  with  strange  thunder,  my  sky  has  fallen,  and 
my  thoughts  are  full  of  wild  feeling.  Oh,  what  are 
you?  What  is  this  place?  Are  we  real,  or  only  a 
dream  ? 

JULIAN 

[Passionately.] 

What  does  it  matter?  We  are  together.  You  are 
mine. 

MANA 

Hardly  I  seem  to  know  myself. 

[She  sits  on  the  fallen  log.] 

JULIAN 

Mine !  You  are  mine  now  alone.  I  claim  all  of 
you  now. 

MANA 

[Simply.] 

You  have  no  need.  No,  Julian ;  I  have  forgotten 
too  much  to  need  reminding  why.  Even  at  this  mo 
ment  Father  Peter  is  waiting,  wondering,  watching 
the  road,  listening  for  the  sound  of  horses.  And 


TO-MORROW 

Mark—  [She  smiles,  with  affectionate,  reminiscent 
look]  great,  slow,  quiet  Mark  — he  has  dropped  his 
garden  tools,  and  stands  listening  also,  waiting  to 
wish  me  good-night. 

JULIAN 

[Mutters  low.} 
His  garden  tools! 

MANA 

[Oblivious.'] 
They  are  far  away,  that  always  have  been  near  me, 

JULIAN 

[In  a  flat  voice.] 
Mark:  you've  never  told  me  about  him. 

MANA 

[Starting  from  her  thoughts.} 
About  Mark?  Why,  there's  nothing  to  tell  about 
Mark.  He's  just  my  Adam's  rib.  I  came  out  of 
his  marrow,  like  Eve,  to  ask  all  the  questions  and  do 
all  the  mischief.  Or  you  might  call  him  a  shaggy 
old  tree-trunk,  and  me  the  hamadryad. 

JULIAN 

[Sitting  beside  her,  looks  close  in  her  face.] 
And  where  does  Apollo  come  in? 

MANA 

[Smiling  faintly.] 
Oh,  he  comes  —  in  time,  doesn't  he? 


TO-MORROW  103 

JULIAN 

[Fervently  •] 

How  I  love  you ! 

MANA 

Wait:  let  us  think. 

JULIAN 
No,  let  us  love. 

MANA 

To  think  is  sweet  when  we  love. 

JULIAN 

But  now,  now,  Mana,  you  —  you  here  in  the  night, 
speaking,  breathing,  bewilder  me,  madden  me ! 

MANA 

[Low  and  fascinated.] 
And  you :  it  is  wild  and  wonderful  t 

JULIAN 
Say  then  —  to-night!     Shall  it  not  be  to-night? 

—  At  last  to  possess  each  other ! 

MANA 

[Eluding  his  embrace,  rises. ] 

No,   but  to   be  possessed  1     Not   to   possess   each 
other  —  that  can  never  be.     But  to  be  possessed  by  a 
power  above  us  —  yonder  — 
[With  a  glad  cry,  she  looks  up  through  the  boughs.] 

—  Ah!  my  star  —  my  star! 


104i  TO-MORROW 

JULIAN 

Mana — ? 

MANA 

[Mysteriously,  pointing.'} 
Hush:  look:  wish  with  me! 

[Looking  upward.'} 

Star  white,  star  bright, 
First  star  I've  seen  to-night, 
I  wish  I  may  —  I  wish  I  might  — 
Have  the  wish  I  wish  to-night! 

JULIAN 

Amen  to  that ! 

MANA 

[With  a  "happy  sigh.} 
Now  —  that  takes  me  home  to  the  garden! 

JULIAN 
With  an  incantation? 

MANA 

You'll  not  laugh  at  me?  Listen:  When  I  was  a 
little  girl,  once  at  sunset,  Father  Peter  took  Mark 
and  me  into  the  garden.  "  Now,  children,  wish !  "  he 
said,  and  he  showed  us  that  star.  "  That  little  snow- 
flake  of  fire,"  he  said,  "  is  the  wish  of  all  the  world. 
Venus,  men  call  it :  Venus  Uranus  —  the  love  of  the 
mind.  Whoever  wishes  upon  that  star  —  his  wishes 
come  true." 


TO-MORROW  105 

JULIAN 

The  love  of  the  mind?     Surely  you  mean  —  of  the 
heart. 

MANA 

[Shaking  her  head.] 

The  heart  forgets;  only  the  mind  remembers. 
[Moving  away.] 

—  Come ;  let's  go. 

JULIAN 

Go!     Where? 

MANA 

Home  to  the  garden. 

JULIAN 
In  the  dark?  —  with  nothing  to  eat? 

MANA 

How  far  is  it? 

JULIAN 

Eighteen  miles  at  least.     We  must  wait  till  moon- 
rise. 

MANA 
I  forgot.     Well,  then,— [With  a  glad  thought] 

—  I  know  what! 

JULIAN 

What? 


106  TO-MORROW 

MANA 

A  camp-fire!  —  Here,  by  this  cliff;  it's  sheltered 
here  from  the  wind.     Let's  build  a  camp-fire. 

JULIAN 
Splendid ! 

MANA 

I  haven't  built  one  since  the  redwoods. —  Stars  and 
a  camp-fire:  what  fun! 

JULIAN 

I'll  get  some  matches. 

[JULIAN  goes  into  the  bungalow.  MANA,  stooping 
down,  begins  to  gather  wood  on  the  ground, 
humming  to  herself.  The  scene  grows  dimmer 
in  the  twilight.] 

MANA 
"  First  star  I've  seen  to-night  "— 

What  fun ! 

[Visibly  a  tranquil  reverie  steals  over  her.  Laying 
an  armful  of  the  gathered  dead  wood  near  the 
rocky  niche,  she  stands  —  with  her  back  to  the 
boulder  —  looking  under  the  boughs  toward 
the  paling  sunset.  Silently  where  she  is  gazing 
the  shadowy  figure  of  MARK  emerges  and  stands 
silhouetted.  MANA'S  lips  part,  and  she  reaches 
one  hand  toward  him.  Thus,  motionless,  they 


TO-MORROW  107 

stand  gazing  at  each  other  —  shadow  confront 
ing  shadow.  Only  the  sound  of  the  sea  is 
faintly  heard.  Suddenly  the  voice  of  JULIAN 
snaps  the  silence.] 

JULIAN 

[Coming  from  the  house,  holds  up  a  little  ~box.~\ 
Here  they  are. 

[For  an  instant,  MANA  moves  her  hand  across  her 
eyes,  but  does  not  turn.     As  quickly  the  form 
of  MARK  disappears.     She  gazes  again.     JULIAN 
speaks  lower.  ] 
Mana! 

[MANA  seems  not  to  hear.  She  moves  again  slowly 
to  gather  boughs,  and  resumes  her  humming. 
In  the  quiet  pause,  JULIAN  watches  her,  fasci 
nated,  where  she  bends  in  the  dusk,  rapt  in  a 
kind  of  happy  reverie.  He  murmurs  to  him- 


The  drift-wood  gatherer! 

MANA 

[Humming.'} 
Five,  six: 
Pick  up  sticks! 

JULIAN 

I'll  have  you  painted  like  that,  against  the  sea  and 
the  twilight. 


108  TO-MORROW 

MANA 

[Oblivious.] 

Seven,  eight: 
Lay  them  straight. 

JULIAN 

[Approaching  her.] 
Let  me  help  you. 

MANA 

[Handing  him  an  armful  of  dead  branches.] 
Here  they  are,  Mark.     "  Lay  them  straight." 

JULIAN 
[Stops   abruptly,    looking   at    her.     Then,    after   a 

pause,   speaks.] 
Why  do  you  call  me  Mark? 

MANA 

[Starting.] 
Ah! 

[Puzzled.] 
What  did  I  say? 

JULIAN 

No  matter. 

[He  turns  quickly  and  carries  the  branches  behind  the 
rock,  beyond  sight.  MANA  follows  and,  stand 
ing  by  the  boulder,  speaks  to  him  behind  it.] 


TO-MORROW  109 

MANA 

No:  not  the  big  ones  first.     Take  that  moss  for 
kindling.     Scoop  the  sand  first.     That's  it. 

[Humming.] 
"  I  wish  I  may  —  I  wish  I  might  — !  " 

JULIAN 

When  did  you  learn  to  make  camp-fires? 

MANA 

I?     I've  made  thousands  —  back  in  the  redwoods. 
Suppers  and  breakfasts  for  both. 

JULIAN 
For  both? 

MANA 

He's  always  so  fond  of  my  flapjacks,  even  when  I 
burn  them. —  Is  there  any  buckwheat  flour? 

JULIAN 

[Coming  -from  behind  the  rocfc.] 
I'll  look  in  the  cupboard  and  see. 

MANA 

No,  let  me.     I'll  find  something.     Start  the  fire. 

JULIAN 

Very     well.      [Handing    the     box.]      Take     some 
matches.     There's  a  candle  on  the  table. 


110  TO-MORROW 

MANA 

What  fun!     It's  just  like  old  times. 
[Springing  lightly  toward  the  bungalow,  she  calls 

back.} 
Oh,  and  Mark,  where's  the  griddle? 

JULIAN 

[Starting  again,  eyes  her  keenly.} 
Under  the  shelf. 

[Speaking  slowly,  while  his  face  darkens.} 
But  my  name  isn't  Mark. 

MANA 

[Not  hearing  the  last,  speaks  from  the  porch.} 
The  dear  camp-fire! 

[She  goes  indoors.  JULIAN  stands  a  moment,  look 
ing  after  her.  Within  the  house  a  match  is 
struck,  and  soon  candle-light  shines  through  the 
open  door.  JULIAN'S  face  grows  darker  with 
feeling;  and  he  murmurs  harshly.} 

JULIAN 

So  !  —  In  the  redwoods. —  Mark ! 
[He  turns  slowly  and,  gathering  up  more  fuel,  moves 
behind  the  rock.  In  a  moment  his  stooping 
shadow  is  cast,  by  a  flickering  glow,  across  the 
scene.  The  glow  increases,  and  smoke  drifts 
upward  along  tlie  stony  ridges  on  the  left.  On 


TO-MORROW  111 

the  right,  MARK  enters  from  the  cypresses,  and 
stands  gaunt  in  the  firelight.  Deliberately,  he 
crosses  toward  the  rock,  and  pauses  near  it. 
Suddenly  the  stooped  shadow  of  JULIAN  length 
ens  to  full  height,  and  his  voice  comes  sharp 
•from  behind  the  rock.] 

Who  are  you? 

MARK 
[Quietly.] 
Mark  Freeman. 

JULIAN 

What  brings  you  here? 

MARK 
I  was  sent. 

JULIAN 

Who  sent  you? 

MARK 

The  master. 

JULIAN 
Who's  he? 

MARK 

Peter  Dale. 

JULIAN 

[Coming  from  behind  the  rock.] 
What  do  you  want  here? 

MARK 

Justice. 


TO-MORROW 


JULIAN 

What  do  you  mean?     Justice  for  whom? 

MAEK 
For  the  uncreated,  and  the  living. 

JULIAN 

You   talk   rubbish.     If   you're   sane,   speak    your 
business  and  be  gone. 

MARK 
I  come  for  Mana  Dale. 

JULIAN 
By  what  authority? 

MARK 

Her  father's. 

JULIAN 

Go  back,  and  tell  her  father  that  her  husband  will 
bring  her  to-morrow.     Mana  is  my  wife. 

MARK 

[Still  more  quiet.'] 
That's  a  lie. 

JULIAN 

Take  care,  fellow.     Leave  this  place. 


MARK 

With  her. 


TO-MORROW  113 

JULIAN 

Go,  I  say.  This  is  my  land.  You  are  trespass 
ing. 

MARK 
You,  sir,  are  trespassing  on  the  Creator's  land. 

JULIAN 

[Moving,  in  agitation.] 
What  does  her  father  want? 

MARK 

You  know. 

JULIAN 

He  insulted  me  and  my  family.  I'll  have  no  more 
dealings  with  him. 

MARK 
You'll  not  need. 

JULIAN 

My  family !  He,  a  gardener,  of  a  breed  of  farm 
ers  and  ranchmen:  he  to  quibble  about  family!  Let 
him  know  my  father  was  a  justice,  and  I  am  a  senator. 
We  are  no  common  stock. 

MARK 

All  men  are  common  stock,  sir.  We  all  came  [He 
points  to  the  sea'}  from  yonder.  There's  no  quibble 
about  democracy. 

[He  turns,  and  moves  toward  the  bungalow.     JULIAN 
follows  him  feverishly.'] 


114  TO-MORROW 

JULIAN 

Where  are  you  going? 

MAEK 

In  there. 

JULIAN 

Stop.     Tell   Mr.   Dale  —  Mana   loves   me.     That 
is  enough. 

MARK 

Yes ;  that's  enough. 

[He  moves  on.~\ 

JULIAN 
[With  sudden  intensity,  causing  MAEK  to  pause.] 

Wait! 

[Then  slowly. .] 

Peter  Dale  did  not  send  you. 

MARK 
What  do  you  mean? 


JULIAN 

You  came  for  yourself  —  because  you  love  Mana 
Dale. 

MARK 

[HarsUy.] 
That's  not  so. 


TO-MORROW  115 

JULIAN 

All   right.     So    be   it.     Then   I    appeal   to    your 
honor.     Mana  is  the  same  as  my  wife. 

MARK 
[Keenly.] 
How  do  you  mean  —  the  same  ? 

JULIAN 
To-morrow  we're  to  be  married. 

MARK 
Ah! 

[He  moves  on  again.] 

JULIAN 

She's  chosen.     It's  too  late. 

MARK 

For  you ;  not  for  her. 

JULIAN 
Well,  then,  not  for  me:  for  her  sake,  keep  away! 

MARK 

For  her  sake!  —  You're  a  rascal. 
[From  within  the  house,  M ANA'S  voice  calls: 
"Julian!"] 

JULIAN 

She's  coming!     In   God's  name,  go!     Give  me  a 
chance. 


116  TO-MORROW 

MARK 

There's  only  one  chance.     You've  had  it. 

JULIAN 

I  know.  You  think  I'm  a  scoundrel.  But  I've 
been  tempted. 

MARK 
Tempted ! 

JULIAN 

Yes ;  can  you  blame  me  ?  Her  father  gave  me 
only  this  afternoon.  We  went  riding.  Well,  we 
rode  fast  —  and  far. —  Curse  you,  why  did  you  fol 
low? 

MARK 

[With  a  scorching  looJc.~\ 
Great  God! 

[He  turns  to  go  into  the  house.     JULIAN  gets  in  his 
way.] 

JULIAN 

[Feverishly] 

Stop.  You  don't  know  what  she  is  to  me.  I've 
never  loved  so  —  but  once.  I  won't  lose  her.  That's 
why  I  lied.  But  listen !  If  you'll  go  away,  I'll  risk 
it.  I'll  tell  her. 

MARK 

You  promised  before. 


TO-MORROW  117 

JULIAN 

This  time  I  will. 

MARK 

The  truth :  —  not  the  trimmings ! 

JULIAN 
{Painfully.'} 
Yes,  the  truth :  all  of  it. 

MANA 

[Calls  from  within.] 
See  what  I've  found. 

JULIAN 

[Wildly.-] 
Go !     I  promise  —  by  God ! 

MARK 

[Slowly.] 
Well  —  I'll  take  care  of  the  horses. 

[He  disappears  in  the  darkness,  left.  JULIAN  moves 
out  of  the  ftre's  glow  into  the  obscurity  of  the 
background,  where  his  form,  indistinctly  visible, 
paces  back  and  forth  against  the  pale  sea-line. 

From  the  bungalow,  MANA  reappears,  carrying 
in  her  hand  a  covered  basket.  She  comes  lightly 
from  the  porch  toward  the  fire,  still  humming  to 
herself.] 


118  TO-MORROW 

MANA 

"  Star  white,  star  bright  — " 

Look !  —  I  couldn't  find  the  griddle,  but  see :  here's 
lots  of  good  things.  And  what  do  you  think  I  found 
in  this  basket. —  My  dear!  Where  are  you? 

JULIAN 
[Huskily. ,] 
Here. 


Come  and  see:     A  quaint  little  doll. 


MANA 

[She  lifts  it  from  the  basket.'] 
We  must  take  it  home  to  Rosalie. 
[Approaching,  JULIAN  looks  at  her,  trembling;  takes 
the  doll   in  his  hand,    then  lets   it   fall   to  the 
ground.] 

JULIAN 
It's  hers. 

MANA 

[Stooping  to  lift  it,  looks  up  suddenly  as  JULIAN 

turns  away  with  a  moaning  sound.~\ 
Julian,  what  is  it? 

JULIAN 
[Shuddering.  ] 

You  were  right.  They  suffer.  They  are  pur 
sued.  They  look  backward  in  pain,  and  they  can 
not  escape. 


TO-MORROW  119 

MANA 

[Gomg  to  him.] 
My  dear,  what  are  you  speaking  of? 

JULIAN 

[Wildly,  pointing  at  the  cypresses.] 
Of  these  curst  things:  these  memories  with  dead 
arms    and    stricken    limbs  —  these    haunted    human 
plants,  that  have  sprung  up,  and  live  on,  where  the 
Creator  blasted  them  in  the  sowing. 

MANA 

Darling,  forget  my  words.     Those  were  strange, 
sickly  thoughts. —  See :     I'm  quite  happy  now. 

JULIAN 
Happy  in  ignorance,  my  Mana. 

MANA 

What's  happened?     Why  have  you  changed  so? 

JULIAN 

God !  —  O  fool !  —  Why  of  all  spots  should  I  have 
brought  you  here ! 

MANA 
Here :  to  your  bungalow  ? 

JULIAN 

A  haunted  house!     But  I  will  tell  you  —  yes,  I 
must  tell  you  —  why. 


120  TO-MORROW 

MANA 

Haunted? 

JULIAN 

It  was  because  I  wanted  to  dare  them  here  in  their 
den.  I  wanted  to  bring  you  —  you,  star-white,  holy, 
—  here  to  the  place  of  the  plague,  and  make  it  clean 
for  always.  I  wanted  you  to  drive  them  back  into 
their  own  hell  —  these  devils  of  days  that  are  gone! 
[MANA  holds  out  the  doll.] 

MANA 
Julian  —  is  it  this  ? 

JULIAN 
[Takes  it  again,   stares   at   it  blankly,   then  looks 

closer.] 

There  they   are :     Do   you   see  those   stitches  — 
how  many,  how  small,  how  patient? 

MANA 
It  is  finely  sewn. 

JULIAN 
[Agonized.] 

Those  are  mad  stitches,  Mana.     Ah,  God,  they'll 
drive  me  mad  now. 

[He  -flings  the  doll  into  the  darkness.] 

MANA 

My  dear,  my  dear,  let  me  help  you. 


TO-MORROW  121 

JULIAN 

It  was   not   I  —  not  I !     I'm   no   worse   than  the 
others.     I'm  just  a  victim.     Why  do  they  mock  me! 

MANA 

Be  calm.     Tell  me. 

JULIAN 

And  now  they'll  tear  you  from  me  1 

MANA 

Don't! 

JULIAN 

If  I  tell,  you  won't  leave  me? 

MANA 
Don't  fear. 

JULIAN 
Those  stitches,  Mana  — 

[He  pauses. ] 

MANA 

[Gently.'} 
They  were  hers? 

JULIAN 

Hester's :  her  mother's. 

MANA 
She  sewed  them  for  Rosalie? 


122  TO-MORROW 

JULIAN 

Before.     While  she  was  waiting. 

. 

MANA 

Waiting? 

JULIAN 

[Pomting  toward  the  bungalow.'} 
There. 

MANA 

I  see,  dear. 

JULIAN 

I  loved  her.  She  wanted  to  be  hidden  away,  be 
cause  — 

[He  buries  his  face.] 

MANA 

She  was  afraid? 

JULIAN 

She  loved  me.  At  first  it  was  all  too  sudden  to 
marry.  And  then  —  then  she  would  not  marry  me, 
because  — 

[His  voice  breaks.'] 

MANA 

[Pitifully.] 
Don't  fear. 

JULIAN 

Because  — 


TO-MORROW  123 

[Looking  m  MANA'S  face,  he  reaches  for  her  hand, 

with  a  cry.] 
Ah,  no — you'll  leave  me  I 

MANA 

[Caressing  his  hand.~\ 
Never  fear! 

JULIAN 
Promise  me !  —  You  do  promise  ? 

MANA 

Of  course,  dear. 

JULIAN 

Thank  God !  —  Ah,  now  I  can  tell.  You  see. —  It 
was  because. —  She  would  not  marry  me,  because  — 
[He  breaks  down.] — I  can't! 

MANA 
[Gently.] 
There's  no  need. 

JULIAN 

[Controlling  himself.'} 

Because  of  —  of  the  madness.  It  came  upon  her 
—  after.  You  see  —  there  was  a  family  taint,  so 
she  thought  —  she  told  me  —  she  dreamed  — 

MANA 

[Murmurs.] 
Julian ! 


TO-MORROW 


JULIAN 

She  dreamed  it  —  would  —  be  —  born  —  blind. 

MANA 
[Family.] 
Rosalie? 

JULIAN 

[Very  slowly.'] 

And  she  sewed,  and  she  sewed,  and  —  it  —  "hap 
pened.  And  she  died  —  there. 

MANA 

[With  deep  pity.'] 
And  you  did  not  know  —  her  family  ? 

JULIAN 

[Staring  at  her.] 
Her  family  ! 

[He  grasps  MANA'S  arm  —  his  features  twitching  — 

and  speaks  huskily.] 

Yes,  yes,  that  was  it  —  her  family.  I  —  I  did  not 
—  know. 

[With  bowed  head,  he  sinks  upon  the  ground,  cling 
ing  to  MANA'S  knees.  She  caresses  his  fore 
head] 

MANA 

It  is  over,  dear.  It's  over  now.  The  ghosts  are 
gone.  See,  the  cypresses  are  beautiful  in  the  star 
light. 


TO-MORROW  125 

JULIAN 

[Hysterically.]  ^ 

Yes,  it's  over.     And  you  won't  leave  me? 

MANA 
[Gently.'} 
Why  should  I? 

JULIAN 

No,  no,  that's  it.  Why  should  you?  You'll  tell 
them  that,  won't  you?  That's  what  I  told  your 
father. 

MANA 
You  told  my  father  —  this  ? 

JULIAN 
Not  all,  of  course ;  but  enough  — 

MANA 

But  I  thought  — 

JULIAN 

He  wouldn't  listen,  you  see. 

MANA 

Wouldn't  listen! 

JULIAN 

[Growing  more  hysterical.] 

He  wouldn't  let  me  explain. —  He  wasn't  fair! 
He  wasn't  fair! 


126  TO-MORROW 

MANA 

Father  Peter  —  not  fair ! 

JULIAN 

No  I  I  began  to  tell  him  all  —  everything :  how 
I'd  seen  a  specialist  — 

MANA 
Specialist  — 

JULIAN 

How  'twas  years  ago,  anyway,  and  the  chances  are 
all  with  me  —  absolutely.  But  he  wouldn't  listen  ! 

MANA 

Chances  ? 

JULIAN 

A  thousand  to  one  —  it  could  never  happen  again. 
Never !  —  it  couldn't,  it  couldn't ! 

MANA 
I  don't  understand. 

JULIAN 

Ah,  no  matter;  I'm  mad  with  it  all.  But  it's  over 
now.  You've  said  so  yourself,  Mana.  It's  over; 
it's  all  over.  And  you've  promised. —  And  you'll  tell 
them  so,  God  bless  you  J  You've  promised  not  to 
leave  me  because  of  it. 

MANA 

Because  of  the  past  —  you  mean. 


TO-MORROW  127 

JULIAN 

Yes,  yes ;  and  the  future's  all  safe  —  positively. 

MANA 
Safe? 

JULIAN 

No  danger,  no  danger  at  all.  So  what  do  we 
care  for  your  father  now?  My  God!  We'll  face 
him  together,  won't  we  ?  —  him,  and  that  other  fellow 
—  curse  him ! 

MANA 

Julian,  Julian,  I  don't  understand  what  you're 
saying.  What  danger  ?  —  to  whom  ? 

JULIAN 

[Wildly.'} 
None,  I  say, —  none! 

MANA 

Be  calm,  dear.  You  frighten  me.  Tell  me.  Is 
my  father  opposed  to  our  marriage? 

JULIAN 
He  left  it  to  you ;  entirely  to  you. 

MANA 
But  what  did  he  say? 

JULIAN 

He  said  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  it,  nothing! 
And  that's  true. 


128  TO-MORROW 

MANA 

[Appealing!?/.] 
But  why?  why? 

JULIAN 

The  child,  of  course. —  The  damnable  prudery  \ 
He's  prejudiced. 

MANA 

No  —  not  Father  Peter ! 

JULIAN 

[Growing  wilder.'} 

I  tell  you,  he  wouldn't  even  hear  me  I  When  he 
talked  of  the  blindness,  I  told  him  my  own  doctor 
gave  a  thousand  chances  — 

MANA 

[Breathing  quicker.] 
The  blindness. —  Your  doctor ! 

JULIAN 

Wouldn't  that  satisfy  God  Himself?  A  thousand 
chances ! 

MANA 

[Drawing  away  from  him,  appalled.]  ^ 

No,  no,  Julian!  —  not  you! 

[They  gaze  for  a  moment  in  each  other's  eyes  —  fear 
fully.  JULIAN'S  eyes  fall.  He  reaches  toward 
her.] 


TO-MORROW  129 

JULIAN 

Mana  —  Mana !     You've      promised.     I     mustn't 
lose  you.     I  can't ! 

MANA 

[With  an  anguished  cry.] 

0  God  —  not  you,  not  you ! 

JULIAN 
[Clinging  to  her,  hysterically.] 

1  can't,  Mana!     I  can't  lose  you.     You've  prom 
ised  !     You've    promised    me,    Mana.     I    love    you ! 
You  know  how  I  love  you.     I  can't  —  I  won't  lose 
you !     I  won't !     No,  Mana  —  Mana ! 

MANA 

[Tearing  herself  from  him.] 
Let  me  go ! 

[She  rushes  into  the  bungalow,  closing  the  door. 
JULIAN  stands  for  an  instant,  dazed,  swaying, 
muttering:  "  Mana,  Mana,  no ! "  Then,  re 
covering  himself,  he  staggers  after  her.  As  he 
reaches  the  porch,  the  candle-light  from  the 
window  is  obscured  by  a  shadow,  which  emerges 
from  behind  the  porch  pillar.  Before  him 
stands  MARK  who  has  entered  from  the  darkness 
beyond.  JULIAN  pauses  and  draws  back,  breath- 
Ing  hard.  Then  he  speaks  huskily.'} 


130  TO-MORROW 

JULIAN 

She's  mine.     She's  promised. 

MARK 

[Stepping  toward  him.] 
You  lie. 

[Seizmg  JULIAN  'with  both  arms,  he  lifts  him  bodily, 
'with  a  mighty  clutch,  and  bears  him  into  the 
middle  ground.  Here  the  two  forms  sway  in  the 
•firelight,  now  -flickering  from  its  embers. 
Partly  freeing  himself,  JULIAN  cries  out,  strug 
gling  for  release.] 

JULIAN 
You  devil,  let  go ! 

[Gagging  him  with  one  hand,  MARK  twists  backward 
JULIAN'S  torse,  and  forces  him  backward,  writh 
ing,  beyond  the  glow  of  the  fire.  At  JULIAN'S 
cry,  the  door  has  opened,  and  MANA  looks  forth, 
straining  to  see.] 

MANA 

[Groping  outward.] 
Who  is  there? 

[Silently  the  forms  wrestle  backward.  On  the  dim 
verge  of  the  cliff  they  pause,  panting.  There, 
with  a  sudden  jerk,  one  is  flung  outward,  falling, 
and  disappears  with  a  quivering  cry.~\ 


TO-MORROW 


MANA 

[Calls,  in  fear.~\ 
What's  that? 

[Stumbling  toward  the  cliff,  she  confronts  the  tall 

form  of  MARK,  moving  into  the  firelight.] 
You?  —  Is  it  you! 

[With  a  smothered,  half  -joyful  sound,  she  runs  to 
him,  crouching  close,  as  for  protection.] 

*•• 

MARK 

[Looking  down  at  her.} 
Don't  worry. 

MANA 
[Faintly.] 
Where  is  he? 

MARK 

[Points  toward  the  cliff.] 
Below  there.  —  I  wasn't  taking  any  chances. 

MANA 

[Drawing  bach.] 
Mark!  —  What  have  you  done? 


MARK 

[Slowly,  staring  ahead  of  him.] 
I  pulled  a  weed. 


132  TO-MORROW 

[With  a  low,  moaned  cry,  MAN  A  sinks  on  the  ground, 
cowering.  The  fire  goes  out  in  darkness. 
Faintly,  from  the  right,  a  whistle  sounds;  from 
the  left,  a  far  motor-horn.  Below  the  cliff, 
dully,  the  surf  beats. 


CURTAIN. 


ACT  THIRD 


ACT  THIRD 


The  garden:  late  afternoon.  Long  shadows  of 
eucalyptus  trees  fall  across  the  flame-colored 
flowers.  Far  on  the  mountains  the  slant  sun 
beams  sharpen  the  ridges  of  the  golden  canyons. 

In  the  central  path  stands  ROSALIE,  alone.  She 
seems  bewildered.  She  is  listening.  From  the 
left  rises  a  droning  of  men's  voices  in  song. 

The  sleepy  sound  draws  nearer  and,  along  the  mid- 
dleground  path,  laborers  enter  m  file.  They 
are  Mexican  half-breeds  and  Japanese  coolies, 
bearing  on  their  backs  brush-heaps  of  small  trees. 
Some  of  these  have  fallen  and  clutter  the  paths. 
Passing  through  the  flowers,  they  disappear, 
right,  the  Mexican  workmen  murmuring  their 
stuttered  song,  the  Japanese  m  stolid  silence.* 

While  they  have  been  passing,  ROSALIE  has  picked 
up  a  small  broken  branch,  and  stands  -finger 
ing  it,  as  she  tries  to  hum  the  men's  minor-keyed 
song,  which  dies  away  beyond  the  scene. 

*  Throughout  the  act,  at  times,  similar  workmen  pass  —  singly, 
or  in  small  groups  —  across  the  scene,  in  the  background. 

135 


136  TO-MORROW 

From  the  right  enters  a  young  woman,  dressed 
as  a  trained  nurse.  She  has  a  hushed,  imper 
sonal  air.  She  comes  toward  ROSALIE. 

THE    YOUNG    WOMAN 

[In  a  low  voice.] 
Little  girl. 

ROSALIE 

[Starting. ,] 
Who  are  you? 

THE    YOUNG    WOMAN 

They  want  you  in  the  house. 

ROSALIE 

Why  are  the  paths  all  mixed?     They're  full  of 
broken  things.     I  can't  find  the  way. 

THE    YOUNG    WOMAN 

Take  my  hand. 

ROSALIE 

It's  been  a  long,  long  afternoon. —  Where's  Mana? 

THE    YOUNG    WOMAN 

Come. 

ROSALIE 

[Going  with  her.] 

Who  wants  me?     What's  the  matter  with  the  gar 
den  to-day? 


TO-MORROW  137 

[They  go  into  the  greenhouse.  From  the  right  enter 
MRS.  HENSHAWE  and  SPOFFORD.  MRS.  HEN- 
SHAWE'S  eyes  are  red  with  weeping,  and  occa 
sionally  she  sobs.  SPOFFORD  is  divided  in  his 
attention  between  a  bundle  of  newspapers,  which 
he  holds  under  his  arm  —  reading  from  one 
which  is  open  —  and  his  solicitude  for  MRS. 
HENSHAWE.  Together  they  pass  slowly  along 
the  middle  ground  path.~\ 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

My  poor  boy ! 

SPOFFORD 

Such  hideous  headlines !  —  Pray  be  calm. 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

And  to  think  we  should  have  to  hunt  for  her  — 
now! 

SPOFFORD 

The  afternoon  editions  are  worse  than  this  morn 
ing's. 

[Mutters  as  he  reads.'} 
"  Senator's  Mystery  Unsolved  " — 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

Ha !     I'll  solve  it,  if  he  lives  —  my  poor  boy ! 

SPOFFORD 

[Consolingly.] 
There,  there ! 


138  TO-MORROW 

MBS.    HENSHAWE 

Fall  from  a  cliff  —  him!     Ridiculous! 

SPOFFORD 

[Muttering.'] 
"  Alleged  Bride  denies  she  is  Married." —  Hideous ! 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[Pausing  to  look  at  the  wheelbarrow  in  the  path.] 
Oh,  I  have  my  suspicions ! 

SPOFFORD 

Suspicions :  what  are  they  ? 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

Well,  if  I'm  wrong,  she'll  get  married,  that's  all  — 
and  stop  these  scandalous  newspapers. 

SPOFFORD 

Of  course.     We'll  find  her  at  once.     She  must  get 
married  —  before  any  further  editions ! 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

And  give  peace  to  my  poor,  dying  boy ! 

SPOFFORD 

Bear  up,  Sally.     Their  marriage  now  may  solve 
—  everything. 


TO-MORROW  139 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[As  they  go  out,  seizes  SPOFFORD'S  arm,  and  points 
suddenly  off  scene,  toward  the  left  foreground.] 
There !  —  That  fellow ! 

[They  go  out.  On  the  path  behind  the  bench  MARK 
enters,  followed  soon  by  PETER.  On  his  en 
trance,  there  is  evident  in  MARK'S  face  and 
movements  a  new  and  feverish  energy,  controlled 
but  burning  inward.  Pausing  in  the  path,  he 
breaks  suddenly  a  flower  from  its  stalk  and  me 
chanically  tears  its  petals  to  pieces,  while  his 
eyes  search  the  garden.  PETER  enters  slowly, 
holding  in  both  hands  his  inverted  straw  hat, 
into  which  he  looks  down  pensively.] 

PETER 

It's  breed,  Mark;  breed.  That's  the  only  rock- 
bottom.  When  folks  are  bred  thoroughbred,  these 
things  won't  happen. 

MARK 

[Murmurs.] 
She  isn't  here. 

PETER 

Pigs  for  pork,  humans  for  happiness :  then  some 
day  we  may  breed  the  Three  Graces. 

MARK 
All  day  she's  kept  from  me. 


140  TO-MORROW 

PETER 

Love,  Will-power,  Reason:  these  three.     And  the 
greatest  of  these  is  Reason. 
[Glancing  at  the  flower,  which  MARK  has  torn  and 

scattered  on  the  path,  he  touches  MARK'S  arm.] 

You're  losing  the  pollen. 

MARK 
[Starting.] 

Too  bad!  too  bad!     Can't  be  mended  now. 

PETER 
Oh,  time  and  tending  mend  most  things. 

MARK 
[Searchingly.] 

Will  he  die,  you  think? 

PETER 

Believe  they're  expecting  the  surgeon  from   San 
Francisco. 

MARK 

[Introspective.] 
It's  murder,  isn't  it! 

PETER 
That  might  be  the  word,  if  the  man  dies. 


TO-MORROW  141 

MARK 

Death  makes  no  difference.  The  man  she  loves  — 
I  forgot  that!  He  was  the  man  she  loves.  And  I 
did  it! 

PETER 

Couldn't  trust  him.     You  know,  I  sent  you. 

MARK 

Yes,  but  that's  not  all. —  My  God,  sir! 

[With  sudden  conviction,  lie  turns  to  PETER.] 
I  must  tell  you  why! 

PETER 

No  need,  I  guess. 

MARK 

{Bursting  forth.] 
I  love  Mana !     I  love  her.     That's  why  I  did  it. 

PETER 

[With  a  faint  smile. ~\ 
Just  so. 

MARK 

I  never  knew  till  last  night.  Last  night  —  I 
thought  of  you,  yes  —  and  her,  God  knows :  but  God 
knows  I  thought  of  myself. 

PETER 

[Nodding.] 
All  of  us:  just  so. 


TO-MORROW 


MARK 

All  at  once,  like  black  thunder,  I  knew  it:  I 
wanted  her  —  I  wanted  her  ! 

PETER 
Have  you  —  told  her? 

MARK 

Told  her  I  Would  she  ever  forgive  me?  Besides 
—  could  I  call  it  love  !  The  man  she  loves  —  to  kill 
him,  in  fight,  like  a  strong  beast  ! 

PETER 

Don't  be  too  hard  on  strong  beasts.  They  make 
the  best  men  —  with  right  breeding.  —  You  saved  her. 

MARK 
Yes,  but  I  wanted  her  myself. 

PETER 

I  guess  there's  no  salvation  without  selfishness,  nor 
love  without  passion.  Come,  Mark  ;  passion  ain't  the 
first  of  graces,  but  it  made  you  strong  last  night. 
Thank  God  for  it  ;  that's  all.  I  do. 

MARK 

But,  I  tell  you,  it  made  me  blind.  I  might  have 
waited  and  protected  her  —  not  killed  him. 

PETER 

True  enough.     But  you  didn't. 


TO-MORROW 


MARK 

No,  I  didn't  even  stop  to  pity.  The  whole  horror 
maddened  me.  I  felt  like  Samson  in  the  dark.  I 
could  have  pulled  the  sky  down.  And  there,  when 
we  stood  on  the  cliff  — 

PETER 

Just  a  question  !  —  If  he'd  thrown  you  over,  how 
about  Mana  then? 

MARK 
I  keep  living  it  through  again! 

PETER 

Why  not  forget  it  ?  —  Have  you  seen  Mana  to 
day? 

MARK 

Three  times.  Each  time  she  looked  at  me  —  God, 
such  a  look!  Then  she  almost  fled  from  me.  Now 
she's  disappeared. 

PETER 
Have  you  looked  for  her? 

MARK 

Yes,  but  I  was  wrong.  I'll  not  give  her  any  more 
pain. 

PETER 

Why  not  tell  her  —  what  you've  told  me  ? 


TO-MORROW 


MARK 

Oh,  I  know  now  what  to  do.  I'll  keep  out  of  her 
sight  —  for  good. 

[He  turns  away  with  a  gesture  of  passionate  suffer 
ing.  PETER,  with  an  anxious  look,  follows 
him.] 

PETER 

Just  be  sure  it's  for  good.  You're  not  calculat 
ing  —  ? 

MARK 

Don't  worry.  —  To  die  would  be  good  —  good  as 
a  deep  plunge  and  a  long,  cold  swim  out  to  sea.  But 
that  wouldn't  square  me  with  myself,  would  it?  No; 
I  know  what  to  do.  —  Good-by. 

PETER 
Are  you  wanting  —  the  law  ? 

MARK 

The  truth.     He  lied  to  them  about  last  night,  and 
that  has  given  me  my  freedom.     Well,  I  don't  want 
it  —  from  him.     I'm  going  to  tell  the  facts. 
[He  starts  away,  right.     PETER  doesn't  move,  but 
speaks  quietly.] 

PETER 
Mark! 


TO-MORROW  145 

MARK 

[Pausing."] 

Yes,  sir. 

PETER 

You've  known  her  and  me  —  twenty  years? 

MAEK 
Twenty  odd,  sir. 

PETER 

Seems  like  she  deserves  your  confidence  ahead  o' 
strangers. 

MARK 

[Returning  slowly.] 

Why,  you're  right,  sir.  You're  always  right. 
I'll  tell  her  first  — what  I've  told  you.  Where  is 
she? 

PETER 

Somewheres  in  the  garden,  I  guess. 
[They  go  out,  by  the  foreground  path,  left.  From 
the  left  middle  ground  SPOFFORD  enters,  looks 
about,  and  passes  off,  right,  round  the  green 
house.  Presently  the  tall  cacti  in  the  back 
ground  are  parted,  and  MANA  emerges.  She  is 
dressed  m  a  simple,  flower-like  gown  of  gray, 
and  comes  slowly  down  the  central  path  to  the 
pool.  Here  for  a  moment  she  stands  silent  and 
rigid,  then  sinks  to  a  crouching  posture  on  the 
margin,  staring  in  the  water.  Behind  her,  from 


146  TO-MORROW 

the  left  foreground,  PETER  enters,  sees  her  and 
approaches  quietly.  Bending  over,  he  touches 
her  with  a  light  caress,  and  speaks  low.] 

PETER 
Is  the  pool  filled  with  tears? 

MANA 

[Without  turning,  shivers.] 

With  ice  —  with  ice.  Last  night  —  there  was  a 
frost  in  the  garden  last  night. 

PETER 
A  few  petals  nipped,  that's  all. 

MANA 

And  morning  and  noon  and  afternoon,  the  strange 
sunshine  freezes.  Father  Peter,  only  you  are  the 
same.  All  other  things  have  changed. 

PETER 

To  grow  is  to  change. 

MANA 

And  to  die !  —  I  think  I  died  last  night. 

PETER 

Then  I  guess  you  went  straight  to  heaven,  girl. 
Come,  a  kiss  for  St.  Peter! 

[With  quaint  tenderness,  he  draws  lier  to  him.     Ob 
livious,  she  looks  away,  right] 


TO-MORROW  147 

MANA 

Perhaps  he  is  dying  now.  But  how  can  I  go  to 
him  —  now ! 

PETER 
Better  not. 

MANA 

Poor  thing  of  fate  —  poor  Julian !  Ah,  Father 
Peter,  poor  Love,  that  awakes  in  the  dark,  and  thinks 
to  know  the  awakener. —  The  dreadful  dark  I 

PETER 

We  mustn't  be  afraid  of  the  dark,  dear.  We  must 
strike  a  light. 

MANA 

It's  not  that  he  deceived  me  and  himself.  It's  to 
think  that  God  was  deceived  in  us  both:  that  God 
himself  stumbled  in  the  dark ! 

PETER 

Guess  'twouldn't  be  the  first  time  since  the  crea 
tion. 

MANA 

Why  couldn't  I  see  even  dimly  I  Why  didn't  the 
truth  scorch  me,  before  I  touched  it?  How  could  I 
follow  it,  step  by  step,  blindly  to  the  edge  of  the 
cliff  —  ah,  hideous !  —  What's  to  become  of  him  now? 

PETER 
Death  ain't  as  certain  as  life. 


148  TO-MORROW 

MANA 

[Turning,  startled.'] 
Oh,  do  you  think  they'd  condemn  him? 

PETER 
There's  nobody  been  informed,  has  there? 

MANA 
Not  yet.     But  would  it  be  murder? 

PETER 
Might  be  called,  if  they  knew. 

MANA 

And  could  he  be  —  hanged  for  it? 

PETER 

Oh !  [  With  a  pause']  —  Just  who  were  you  speak 
ing  of? 

MANA 

Why,  Mark. 

PETER 

[Smiling  faintly.] 
Oh,  him  1 

MANA 

They  couldn't  —  they  couldn't  condemn  him  !  It 
was  I  —  I  that  brought  it  upon  him :  all  that  crime 
and  horror  because  of  me!  He  did  it  for  me  —  to 
save  me. 


TO-MORROW  149 

PETER 

To  save  more  than  you,  my  girl. 

MANA 

I  know  —  I  know  —  all  the  future !  All  that 
you've  taught  me  —  I  forgot.  For  a  glamour  —  a 
dreadful  dream!  Oh,  dear  Father! 

PETER 
Maybe  it's  been  my  mistake. 

MANA 

Yours  ? 

PETER 

Maybe, —  I  don't  say.  See  that  fence  ?  I'm  a 
gardener.  Inside  that  fence  here  is  mine  —  to  make 
experiments.  Maybe  I've  tried  to  experiment  — 
outside  the  fence. 

MANA 
What  do  you  mean? 

PETER 

Why  —  this,  child:  I  said  to  myself,  years  ago: 
"  Peter,  you've  got  the  chance.  Mana,  your  girl, 
she's  hardy  stock  but  fine,  and  California's  a  rare 
raising  ground.  You  raise  up  your  girl  for  happi 
ness, —  just  joy,  and  clear  thoughts,  and  love  —  not 
the  old  wrong  things  of  the  past.  Raise  her  up  for 
To-morrow."  Well,  my  dear  [He  points  at  the 


150  TO-MORROW 

flowers'],  I've  done  that  for  them,  and  succeeded. 
But  you  see  how  it  is :  To-morrow  ain't  here  yet  — 
for  us. 

MANA 

Ah,  but  it  will  come !  Don't  say  it  won't  \  Don't 
deny  yourself  because  of  me. 

PETER 

[Ruminating*] 

Oh,  I  guess  it'll  come  —  for  all.  But  slower  for 
us.  The  world's  a  bigger  garden  than  mine,  and 
it  needs  a  bigger  gardener.  But  the  One  I'm  trying 
to  learn  from  knows  the  business. 


MANA 
What  one? 

PETER 

The   love   that   reasons,   my   dear:     Imagination. 
Some  folks  call  it  God. 

MANA 

[Putting  her  face  against  him.] 
Whom   I   forgot !  —  Oh,    I   have    sinned,   I   have 
sinned ! 

PETER 

[Caressingly.] 

Come:     I  don't  take  much   stock   in   sin.     Let's 
forget  sin,  shall  we? 


TO-MORROW  151 

MANA 

And  you  forgive  me?     God  bless  you! 

[She  kisses  Mm;  then  turns  away.~\ 
But  he  —  he  will  never  forgive  me. 

PETER 
Mark? 

MANA 

I  know  it.  I  have  seen  him  to-day,  watching  me 
with  strange  eyes.  It  was  terrible ! 

PETER 
What  like? 

MANA 

It  haunts  me.  He's  never  looked  at  me  so  before. 
I  couldn't  stand  his  eyes.  I  crept  away  and  hid. 
Three  times:  three  times  to-day! 

PETER 
I've  been  waiting  for  to-day  —  some  years. 

MANA 

[With  amazement.] 
Waiting  —  for  to-day  1 

PETER 

Since  I  rooted  him  out  of  the  mountains.  He  was 
a  prime  young  stripling,  and  I  wanted  to  see  how 


152  TO-MORROW 

he'd  transplant  here  to  the  garden. —  Well,  the  most 
I  could  do  then  was  to  tie  a  white  string  to  him,  and 
just  wait, 

MANA 

A  white  string! 

PETER 
Yes.     To-day,  though,  it  looks  like  a  blue  ribbon. 

[Smiling  happily,  he  starts  away.] 
But  you're  the  prize  judge. 

. 

MANA 

I  don't  understand. 

PETER 
You  will  soon  —  when  you  meet  him. 

MANA 
How? 

PETER 

Oh,  you'll  know  by  a  sign.     Just  obey  it  —  both 
of  you. 

MANA 

Obey  what  sign? 

PETER 

When  love  has  learned  to  reason,  obey  love. —  If 
you  want  me,  I'm  over  yonder. 

[He  points  off  scene,  left.] 


TO-MORROW  153 

MANA 

{Following  him.} 
Don't  go. 

PETER 

[Pausing  to  return  her  caress.} 
Can't  keep  the  Lord  waiting  any  longer,  my  dear. 
To-day's  my  big  job. 

[Laborers  *  are  passing  In  the  middle  ground.     He 
shows  her  the  brushwood  on  their  backs.] 

See  those  little  fruit  trees?  Nigh  a  million  seed 
lings  I've  tested  and  thrown  away  —  just  to  pick  out 
one,  the  best.  The  others  are  burned  in  the  rubbish. 
So,  you  see,  I  must  finish  my  job.  To-day  —  it's  one 
in  a  million ! 

[He  goes  out,  left.  MANA  follows  him  with  her  eyes; 
then  she  turns  and  moves  slowly  toward  the 
greenhouse.  In  her  path  lies  MARK'S  garden 
prong.  Seeing  it,  she  pauses  with  a  look  of 
reminiscence.  Then  she  lifts  it,  examines  the 
bend  in  the  iron;  tries  to  bend  it,  but  cannot. 
Meantime  MRS.  HENSHAWE  enters,  in  the  left 
middleground.  Seeing  MANA,  she  sets  her  fea 
tures  hard,  and  approaches,  in  slow-moving 
liasteJ\ 


*  Two  of  these  workmen,  among  the  last  to  pass,  pick  up  the 
fallen  branches  which  clutter  the  path,  and  carry  them  away. 


154  TO-MORROW 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

So,  there  you  are! 
[MANA  drops  the  iron,  closing  her  eyes,  as  if  struck.] 

And  where  have  you  kept  yourself?  Don't  you 
know  —  don't  you  know  that  he  wants  you? 

MANA 

[Without  turning.'] 
I  know., 

MES.    HENSHAWE 

You  know,  and  you  stay  away?  God  above  I  It's 
bad  enough  that  he  asked  to  be  brought  to  this  house. 
But  now,  now  you  —  your  lover,  your  husband  — 
for  he's  as  good  as  your  husband  —  lying  in  there 
at  death's  door,  and  you  stay  here  in  the  garden  I  — 
What  do  you  say? 

MANA 

[In  a  low  voice. ~] 
I  said  nothing. 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

Nothing!     Have  you  seen  the  newspapers? 
[MANA  quivers.] 

My  stars !  Was  ever  such  a  —  such  a  —  But  I'm 
no  nincumpoop,  miss.  I  have  a  nose.  I  can  smell 
a  rat,  even  in  a  garden.  I  saw  one  just  now  —  with 
a  red  shirt. 


TO-MORROW  155 

MANA 

[Turning.] 
Mrs.  Henshawe! 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[With  increasing  rapidity.] 

That's  my  name,  Miss  Dale,  and  it  ought  to  be 
yours.  It  ought  to  be  yours,  this  minute.  Julian 
wants  it  to  be.  He's  sent  word  by  me  that  he  wants 
it  to  be,  before  —  before  —  in  case  he  shouldn't  — 
recover.  [Weeping.'}  Oh,  you  coZd-hearted  girl! 
Why  don't  you  speak? 

MANA 


J.TJL  Jn.  j.^i  jn. 

[With  wonder.] 
Do  you  want  it  to  be? 


MRS.    HENSHAWE 

I?     The  Lord  knows,  7  don't  —  except  for  Julian, 
for  his  sake.     I'm  pleading  for  him.     He  may  die. 

MANA 

{Intense  and  quiet.] 
You  know  the  reason. 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

Don't  talk  to  me  of  reasons !  I  won't  talk  to  you 
of  red  shirts.  I  say  —  just  forget  everything  and 
get  married !  Mr.  Spoff ord  will  marry  you  right  off . 
Julian  asks  it. 


156  TO-MORROW 

MANA 

I'm   sure  Julian  wouldn't  ask   it  —  now  —  if  he 
were  well. 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[Exasperated.] 

How  could  he  be  well!  That  terrible  fall  last 
night !  —  I  don't  see  how  he  slipped,  but  he  says  so. 
Anyway,  he's  been  so  generous,  so  chivalrous  to  you. 
Just  as  soon  as  he  came  to  himself,  he  told  the  re 
porter,  in  the  motor,  that  you  were  secretly  married 
to  him.  He  shielded  your  reputation.  And  now, 
what  do  you  mean  by  denying  your  marriage  —  pub 
licly  —  in  the  newspapers ! 
[Breathing  hard  with  pent-up  emotion,  MANA  turns 

quickly  to  speak,  but  curbs  herself.     Then  she 

murmurs  low.] 

MANA 
I  denied  nothing.     We  are  not  married. 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

But  you  know  you've  got  to  be.  Come,  don't  be  a 
fool.  It's  not  only  for  him. —  You  know  it's  for 
your  own  sake.  You  went  alone  with  Julian  to  his 
bungalow,  at  night,  in  the  lonely  woods.  And  an 
other  man  followed  you !  The  newspapers  have  it  all. 
So  you  know  you've  got  to  get  married. —  Don't  be 
silly ! 


TO-MORROW  157 

MANA 

Starting  as  at  a  quick  sting.] 

Silly! 

[Her  voice  and  face  kindle."] 

Dear  God,  my  friend,  you  and  I  are  women.  Do 
we  not  hear  that  word  silly  ringing  in  our  souls,  like 
the  judgment  bell:  Silly  women  —  silly  women! 
Think  of  us !  Our  eyes  —  ours  —  hold  the  doom  of 
the  ages ;  the  life  of  a  planet  pleads  at  our  lips ;  the 
growth  and  beauty  of  our  species  —  they  wait  on 
our  smile.  And  yet  —  oh,  pity  ourselves !  —  Our 
eyes  are  ravished  by  a  flying  moment ;  darkness,  death, 
—  with  a  kiss  we  sow  them  in  the  upturned  gazes  of 
children ;  and  the  choice  of  a  thousand  years  —  what 

is  it  ?  —  A  flash  of  blinding  desire ! 

\^* — . — — -  "•" 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[Gasping.'} 
Now,  why  in  the  world  — 

MANA 

[Swept  by  her  feelmg.~\ 

Ah,  why  indeed  in  the  world!  Is  it  only  to  con 
ceive  and  bear  —  the  children  of  silly  women  ?  Have 
we  never  conceived  the  children  of  God  ?  —  borne  and 
suckled  them  in  clear  dreams?  Have  we  never  sV- 
lected  what  breed  our  bodies  shall  bring  forth?  — 
Not  we,  Mrs.  Henshawe !  We  silly  women  only  know 


158  TO-MORROW 

—  we  have  got  to  get  married:  for  the  sake  of  our 
lovers,  for  the  sake  of  ourselves,  for  the  newspapers, 
for  every  sake  in  the  world  —  except  for  the  sake 
of  our  children.  And  so,  my  friend,  we  women  say 
to  each  other:  Don't  be  silly! 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

My  stars!  You  needn't  burst  out  like  that.  I 
don't  like  such  allusions.  I'm  sure  we're  all  the  chil 
dren  of  God  —  if  it  must  come  to  that.  But  we 
needn't  worry  about  it  on  week  days. —  I  was  talking 
of  Julian.  I  say  you  have  every  reason  in  the  world 
to  marry  him. 

MANA 

[With  quiet  tensity.'} 
Would  Rosalie's  mother  think  so? 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

{With  a  scared  look.]1 
Did  he  speak  of  all  that? 

MANA 

I  thought  you  knew. 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[Fidgeting  to  control  herself.'] 

Well,  well,  my  child,  as  you  say,  we  women  are 
creatures  of  a  kiss.  We  must  take  the  consequences 
with  the  kisses. 


TO-MORROW  159 

MANA 

Though  the  lips  be  poisoned  I 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[Increasingly  moved.~\ 

It's  as  old  as  Babylon.  The  Bible  women  had 
their  share  of  it!  Why  shouldn't  we?  [Hoarsely.] 
I  —  I  have  had  mine.  Wild  oats,  wild  oats  —  woman 
must  take  them  to  her  mill  and  grind  them. 

MANA 

Yes,  woman  must  reap  them  in  her  maidenhood. 
Woman  must  stand  in  the  wild  oats,  like  Ruth,  wait 
ing —  with  love  in  her  eyes!  Ah,  dear  Mrs.  Hen- 
shawe,  must  she? 

[MANA  puts  one  hand  gently  on  MRS.  HENSHAWE'S 
shoulder.  For  an  instant  the  older  woman  re 
turns  her  look  of  tenderness  with  a  glance  half 
fearful,  half  in  tears.  Then,  embarrassed,  she 
shakes  MANA  off,  with  a  shrug  of  affected  un 
concern.] 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

Why,  why,  after  all,  the  poets  sing  of  it.  True 
love  is  blind.  Roses  must  have  thorns.  It's  not  for 
us  women  to  grow  scientific  and  put  an  end  to  ro 
mance  and  poetry. 


160  TO-MORROW 

MANA 

The  poetry   of  truth,   the  romance  of  reason  — 
when  shall  our  poets  make  love-songs  of  those? 
[From  the  greenhouse,  the  TRAINED  NURSE  enters.} 

THE    NURSE 

Miss  Dale. 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

Heavens!     Is  he  worse? 

THE    NURSE 

He  is  very  low.     He  would  like  to  speak  with  Miss 
Dale. 

MANA 

[Quietly.'] 
Very  well. 

[THE  NURSE  goes  out.~] 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

You  are  going  in  to  him? 

MANA 

[Slowly.'} 
Mrs.  Henshawe :  would  you  have  me  kill  your  son  ? 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[Staring.} 

Good  God [ 


TO-MORROW  161 

MANA 

I  could  not  lie  to  him,  even  if  I  would.  He  has 
looked  in  my  eyes  before  this  day.  He  must  never 
look  there  again  —  till  he  is  well  enough  to  bear  the 
truth. 

[She  turns  away.~\ 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

But  I  tell  you  — 

[Enter  SPOFFORD,  right.     He  carries  a  newspaper. ~\ 
Ignatius,  talk  to  her !     She  is  heartless  —  cruel ! 

SPOFFORD 
[Approaching.  ] 

My  child,  we  have  been  hunting  for  you. 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

She  won't  go  to  him. 

SPOFFORD 

Mana,  this  is  not  becoming  —  not  right. 

MANA 

Uncle  Spofford,  yesterday,  here,  was  it  you  who 
urged  me  not  to  marry  Julian? 

SPOFFORD 
Yesterday,  yes;  but  to-day  that's  all  different. 

MANA 
Do  you  urge  me  differently  now? 


162  TO-MORROW 

SPOFFORD 

To  marry  him:  surely.  It's  a  matter  of  honor. 
It's  your  duty  now  to  yourself.  Yesterday,  I 
warned  you,  lest  you  should  do  anything  rash.  But 
you  did  not  heed.  You  have  been  very  rash,  very 
shockingly  rash. 

[Showing  the  newspaper. ~\ 

Look  at  these  headlines:  shameful!  After  such 
things,  in  this  case  there  is  only  one  means  to  redeem 
your  womanly  repute.  As  a  priest  of  the  church,  I 
offer  to  perform  it :  the  sacrament  of  marriage. 

MANA 

'{Very  low.'] 

In  this  case,  I  should  prefer  another  sacrament  to 
that. 

SPOFFORD 

What? 

MANA 

"  When  this  corruptible  shall  put  on  incorruption  " 
— [Poignantly] —  Ah,  if  this  flesh  is  corruptible,  are 
there  no  priests  of  God  who  shall  refuse  to  perform 
sacrament  of  corruption? 

SPOFFORD 
Do  you  call  marriage  such? 

MANA 
No,  but  your  profanement  of  marriage. 


TO-MORROW  163 

SPOFFORD 

You  mean  —  the  church's  sacrament? 

MANA 

No,  but  your  profanement  of  the  church's.  The 
true  church  is  His  who  loved  the  children.  Many 
have  been  His  disciples.  There  was  a  priest  named 
Mendel.  Flowers  were  his  flock.  Reason  was  his 
holiness.  The  law  of  heredity  was  his  prophet's 
staff.  He,  Uncle  Spofford, —  he  would  never  have 
offered  to  perform  sacrament  between  Julian  and  me. 

SPOFFORD 

I  don't  know  whom  you  speak  of.  I  never  heard 
of  him.  But  I  know  you  are  a  woman  —  a  young 
woman,  whom  I  love  as  a  daughter.  And  young 
women  cannot  overstep  the  customs  of  sex  in  society 
without  personal  dishonor.  Public  opinion  does  not 
permit  it. 

MANA 

As  you  say.  And  have  you  thought,  Uncle  Spof 
ford,  what  this  public  opinion  does  permit?  —  The  ^ 

^C£US^      '*        '        ••••*  *"" J\ 

idiot  to  have  offspring,  the  criminal  to  curse  his  birth 
right,  the  insane  to  instill  madness  in  their  children's 
brains ! 

SPOFFORD 

Let  me  tell  you  — 


164  TO-MORROW 

MANA 

This  public  opinion  permits  palaces  to  be  built 
for  its  own  evil  broods:  prisons  to  preserve  them, 
asylums  to  nourish  them,  and  the  fair  bodies  of  young 
men  and  women,  as  temples,  to  rear  their  monstrous 
generations. —  Must  you  and  I  stand  for  such  public 
opinion  ? 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

That  settles  it,  Ignatius.     That  confirms  my  sus 
picions.     Now  I  can  tell  you  why  she  talks  like  this. 
[Reenter,  right,  the  TRAINED  NURSE.] 

THE    NURSE 

Miss  Dale,  the  surgeon  has  come. 

[THE  NURSE  goes  out.~\ 

SPOFFORD 

[To  MANA.] 
You  heard? 

MANA 

[Quietly.] 
I  heard. 

SPOFFORD 

My  dear  child,  whether  he  lives  or  dies,  this  mar 
riage  should  be.  Is  there  no  appeal  I  can  make  to 
your  heart  or  your  womanhood? 


TO-MORROW  165 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[Tearfully.} 
For  Julian's  sake ! 

MANA 

[Anguished.] 

Dear  Mrs.  Henshawe  —  Uncle  Spoff  ord  —  last 
night,  there  was  a  dark  cliff  —  and  a  miracle  1  Julian 
fell  —  he,  he  fell  —  and  saved  himself  and  me.  To 
day,  here  in  this  sunlight,  there  hangs  a  darker  cliff : 
and  you  and  she  are  pushing  me  —  pushing  me  to  the 
edge;  but  if  I  fall,  Julian  and  I,  and  more  than  we, 
will  go  down  into  hell. —  I'm  weak,  dear  friends. 
Don't  push  me ! 

SPOFFORD 

[To  MRS.  HENSHAWE,  with  a  look  of  troubled  ques 
tioning.] 
What's  she  saying? 

MRS.    HENSHAWE 

[Hurrying  him  off.] 
Come ;  let's  go  to  him. 

MANA 

Tell  him,  I  send  him  —  peace. 

[MRS.  HENSHAWE  and  SPOFFORD  go  off,  right. 
MANA  gazes  after  them,  shuddering.  Behind 
her,  left,  enters  MARK.  With  swift  motion,  he 
approaches  her  —  his  fajce  lighted  with  inward 


TO-MORROW 


fire.  Just  behind  her,  he  pauses  and  'visibly  con 
trols  himself.  Then,  speaking,  his  voice  rings 
wild  and  strange  —  as  of  one  in  pain  speaking 
through  him.] 


MARK 

*  Mana! 


[At  his  voice,  MANA  turns,  glances  in  fear,  and  — 

"wild-eyed  —  springs  away.] 
Wait!     This  moment  is  mine. 

[MANA  pauses,  compelled.'] 
I  have  killed  this  man. 


MANA 

[Hardly  vocal.'} 
Mark! 

MARK 

That's   nothing.     I  weeded  him  out.     But  that's 
not  it.     There's  more. 

MANA 

More? 

MARK 

You  must  know  why. 

MANA 

[Mechanically.'] 

Why  — 


TO-MORROW  167 

MARK 

Last  night.—  At  first  I  thought  —  I  thought  only 
the  master  had  sent  me. 

MANA 
Didn't  he? 

MARK 

Yes ;  but  then  —  I  stood  nearby  in  the  woods.  You 
were  gathering  boughs.  It  was  darkish.  He'd  gone 
in  the  house.  I  came  closer.  You  were  standing 
still. 

MANA 

[Awe-struck. ,] 

It  was  you! 

MARK 

I  thought  you  were  looking  at  me.     You  didn't 
move.     He  came  back. 

MANA 

[Murmurs.] 

» 
You  were  gone ! 

MARK 

That  was   the  beginning.     I   waited.     After  I'd 
talked  with  the  man  — 

MANA 
You  spoke  with  him? 

MARK 

I  went  back  in  the  dark  and  circled  round  you. 


168  TO-MORROW 

The  firelight  made  a  mist.  The  trees  were  like  hell. 
They  wrestled  —  and  reached  long  arms;  twisted 
their  necks  and  looked  at  me  with  eyes  —  terrible 
eyes  —  they  were  yours. 

MANA 

Mine ! 

MARK 

Then  I  stood  near  the  bungalow.  You  were  talk 
ing  together.  I  couldn't  hear  what  you  said.  But 
soon  —  you  rushed  in  the  door.  Then  the  man  was 
following.  Then  — 

MANA 

Ah! 

MARK 

Then  I  knew.  And  a  roaring  burst  in  my  ears, 
and  a  lightning  across  my  eyes.  I  grappled,  and 
with  these  hands  I  uprooted  him. 

MANA 
To  save  me  from  him? 

MARK 
Yes.     And  to  save  you  —  for  myself. 

MANA 
For  —  yourself? 

MARK 

Mana !  —  Mana,  I  love  you.     That  was  why  f 


TO-MORROW  169 

MANA 

[Breathless.] 
Mark! 

MARK 

It  was  all  my  life  in  one  instant. 

[With  a  deep  cry.] 
I  have  told  you !     Now,  good-by. 

[He  starts  away.] 

MANA 

Where  are  you  going? 

MARK 
To  him. 

MANA 

Why? 

MARK 

I  owe  him  the  truth.  He  told  me  last  night  that 
I  came  for  you  —  for  myself.  I  denied  it,  but  now 
I  see  he  was  right. 

MANA 

No! 

MARK 

And  he  was  the  man  you  love.     It  was  murder. 

MANA 

[Tense  and  low.] 
But  not  —  yours. 

[MARK  is  moving  away.] 


170  TO-MORROW 

Wait.     /  have  not  spoken  —  yet.     This  moment  is 
also  mine. 

MARK 
[Pausmg.'] 

Yours? 

, 

MANA 

You  have  made  it  mine.     Now  —  now  I  know  my 
self. 

MARK 

{With  vague  questioning.] 
Mana  ? 

MANA 

Listen!     When  we  were  children  —  in  the  moun 
tains  —  we  made  our  camp-fire  —  together. 

MARK 
In  the  redwoods. 

MANA 


"  Five,  six : 
Pick  up  sticks;" 


You  remember? 


MARK 
[Murmuring.'] 

Seven,  eight: 

Lay  them  straight." 


TO-MORROW  171 

MANA 

Last  night,  in  the  cypresses,  I  was  making  the  fire 
—  there. 

MARK 

Where? 

MANA 

Mark,  in  the  redwoods  —  not  the  cypresses. 

MARK 

[Staring.] 

But  how  — ? 

MANA 

How  could  it  be?  I  don't  know.  I  was  there  — 
in  my  thoughts.  In  my  thoughts,  you  were  with  me 
there.  And  soon  —  there  you  stood,  in  the  sunset. 
You  stood  still.  I  thought  you  were  looking  at  me. 

MARK 

[In  wonder.] 
You  —  you  were  looking  at  me  1 

MANA 

Then  you  were  gone.  But  soon,  as  I  picked  up 
the  sticks,  I  thought  you  came  close  beside  me. 
"  Let  me  help  you,"  you  said.  I  did  not  look,  but 
I  gave  you  the  sticks.  Then  I  said:  "Mark,  lay 
them  straight!  "  And  suddenly  he  answered  "  Why? 
Why  do  you  call  me  Mark?  "  And  I  saw  it  was  he. 
Then  I  wondered.  Love  is  strange. 


TO-MORROW 


MARK 

[Yearningly.] 
Love  I  —  love,  Mana? 

MANA 

Ah,  but  now  I  do  not  wonder.     If  he  were  the  man 
I  love  —  I  should  not  be  here. 

MARK 
If  he  were!  —  If? 

MANA 

I  should  be  there,  with  him.     If  he  dies,  that  deed 
will  also  be  mine,  for  I  brought  it  upon  you. 

MARK 
No! 

MANA 

But  he  is  not  the  man  I  love  —  nor  ever  was. 

MARK 

[Slowly,  gazing  at  her.] 
Mana,  is  it  you  and  me? 

MANA 
[Simply] 
All  my  life  —  all  our  lives  —  it  has  been. 

MARK 

[With  awe] 
And  we  did  not  know:  no  one  knew. 


TO-MORROW  173 

MANA 

Yes,  one. 

MAEK 

The  master? 

MANA 

I  think  so.  He  said  we  should  know,  when  we  met, 
by  a  sign. 

MARK 

{With  a  great  breath .] 

Ah,  it  is  true.  I  see  it  now!  His  sign  is  upon 
us  both.  It  was  he  who  mated  us,  when  we  did  not 
know.  I  am  happy. . 

MANA 
We  are  happy. 

MARK 
Yes ;  even  though  I  have  killed  this  man. 

MANA 

[Murmurs.] 
We! 

MARK 

Is  this  blasphemy  which  we  speak?     Yet  it  is  love. 

MANA 

Mark! 

MARK 

Mana! 


174  TO-MORROW 

[They  move  toward  each  other.     MARK  draws  sud 
denly  back,  with  a  hoarse  cry.~\ 
Ah  I  he  is  lying  there.     It  may  soon  be  death.     I 
must  go. 

MANA 
No  !     If  you  do  —  for  you  it  may  be  death. 

MARK 
It  will  be  law. 

MANA 

The  law  of  men !     The  law  of  love  is  wiser. 

MARK 

Shall  I  take  my  life  from  him,  and  also  my  love? 

MANA 

Would  you  take  the  life  of  your  love?     Then  we 
must  go  together. 

MARK 
No ;  the  act  was  mine. 

MANA 

But  the  instigation  —  mine. 

MARK 
The  law  will  not  say  so. 

MANA 

Then  the  law  will  quibble.     Will  you  kill  the  truth 
—  for  that? 


TO-MORROW  175 

MAEK 

Ah,  God!  Mana,  Mana,  the  web  of  fate  is  around 
us.  The  deed  cannot  be  undone;  and  the  law  of 
men  — 

[Enter  the  TRAINED  NURSE,  right. ,] 

THE    NURSE 

Miss  Dale  — 

MARK 

Ah,  you  hear  — 

THE    NURSE 

Miss  Dale,  the  Senator  —  The  doctors  have  con 
sulted  together.  They  send  you  word  — 

MANA 

[Feverishly.] 
Speak  1 

THE    NURSE 

He  will  recover. 

MANA 

[Faintly.] 
Go! 

[THE  NURSE  goes  out.     During  a  long,  silent  mo 
ment,  MANA  and  MARK  look  at  each  other.] 

MANA 
The  law  of  men  is  appeased. 

MARK 
By  the  love  of  God  1 


176  TO-MORROW 

[He  takes  her  hand.  In  the  middle  ground,  left, 
PETER  enters,  quietly.  In  his  hand  he  carries  a 
little  tree,  partly  wrapped  in  paper.  By  the 
central  path  he  pauses,  in  the  sunset.  Behind 
him  far  mountains  and  s~ky,  petaled  with  radiant 
fire,  seem  to  reflect  the  many-colored  gladness 
of  the  flowers. 

MARK  looks  wonderingly  in  MANA'S  face.] 

Mana,  yesterday  we  were  children  —  playing  to 
gether. 

MANA 

[Happily.] 
So  we  shall  be  —  to-morrow. 

PETER 

[Glancing  from  his  little  tree  to  where  they  stand. ~\ 
One  in  a  million ! 

[He  gazes  with  a  quaint  smile.     His  gaze  seems  to 
fondle  all  the  garden.] 


CURTAIN. 


THE    END 


OVERDUE. 


YB  31878 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


